#he had to see the writers doing Dean dirty and he could do nothing

[samsno1]

Honesty

Sam Winchester x Reader

lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)

Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?

Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language

WC: 3.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.

You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.

Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.

“We can find another hellhound,” He argues “I kill it then it's all solved”

“Dean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leash” You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. “I can do them”

After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.

“No, Y/N, you're not doing these trials” Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. “You could die”

“Well, too bad Sam” You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. “Look, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, this…instinct to protect me ever since Bobby…” You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. “But I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?” You say with a faint smile.

You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.

Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.

He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when you’d touch him were just a natural reaction…

Until it wasn’t just. It was. And that was horrifying.

And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials. 

And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.

“Sam, give me the spell” You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing ‘come here’ motions with your stretched hand. “Sam”

“Y/N-”

“Dean.” You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought he’d seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Dean’s head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.

“Dean, can you give us a moment” Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.

Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Sam’s eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.

“So?” You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.

He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.

Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Don’t let your guard down.

After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty. 

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, gods…White picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldn’t let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didn’t see yourself getting out.

You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasn’t your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated – just because…we don’t usually bury hunters, so you can’t say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didn’t have time for falling in love with anyone.

Until. You did.

Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly – no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once ‘Be selfish, just this one time!’ and even so he couldn’t. It wasn’t his nature.

Sam wanted out of this and you wouldn’t let him abandon that dream because of you. You weren’t worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.

He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.

At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You won’t get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.

Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldn’t put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.

“John had left you at Bobby’s and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explain” You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you – which didn’t last long – and you had lost your parents a few months back.

“Ever since that night I knew you would be…something in the long run” You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to me”

You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didn’t know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.

Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, – more you than Sam given the height difference – hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.

“I can't lose you” Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.

“Sam–”

“Y/N. Please.” He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. “I can't lose you”

He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.

“Can't or won't?” You ask, voice weak.

“Both” He answers. “Both because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.”

You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.

“If I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kids…I can't let you lose this.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “And I need to do this for you, for Dean, for Charlie…Losing me is just a consequence for the greater good”

Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.

“You don't get it” He says “When I look into the future I can't imagine–” He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. “I can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dog…they're ours.” He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.

“Sam what are you–”

“And you're the wife. My wife.” He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. “So I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.” He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. “So, please, don't”

Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.

“Sam, look at me” You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. “I love you, too”

You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.

He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.

The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.

And it was the same for the Winchester.

He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.

You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.

As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.

Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.

I'm sorry. 

You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.

“I'm sorry Sammy” You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.

“Y/N, no, please!” He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.

Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.

After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.

“Why did you do this?” He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.

His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.

You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.

At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.

“I did this because I love you” You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you weren’t done. “I love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. You’re smart, you’re brave and you went through so much that I can’t let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I don’t want you to blame yourself, this was my choice”

“I can’t– I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you���” You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.

“Don’t say that” You whisper against his lips. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. This is on me.” You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.

Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldn’t back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.

“We can do this, I can do this. I’m strong enough” You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.

“I know you are but what if I’m not?” He asks and you wait for him to continue. “What if I’m not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?”

“You’ll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for me” You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.

This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.

You didn’t get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. I’ll try, for you.

And that was enough.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

#supernatural #writers on tumblr #sam winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural angst #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

The Lucky Shirt

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: You were sure you had the right bag. But turns out, when you walked head first into a wall of perfection, you swapped laundry bags with him by mistake. Now, you’re stuck with only his clothes to wear and not much time to find him again before the presentation that could change your life.

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 1600

Warning: stress from work, but mostly fluff

Squares: Laundromat meet cute for @anyfandomfluffbingo​​​​

A/n: This is the first thing I’ve written in a while, so it’s not perfect, but I’m trying to fight that writer block and my heartbreak with some fluff. I’m still working on the requests I have, I just had to write something else to try and clear my mind

It was your first apartment and it was a good deal. The rent was cheap, but you had everything you needed, a bathroom, a bedroom and a kitchen. Three rooms, small, fourth floor, a balcony opening on the road below. Nothing special, but it was your home.

The only thing missing was a washing room. Not that you had a washing machine anyway, it was already complicated to leave home to go and live alone. And there was a laundromat down the road, so there was no need at the moment.

A week after moving in, a pile of dirty clothes was slowly turning into a mountain of laundry in the corner of your room. You finally had a day off, so you took advantage of it, put the clothes in a trash bag and headed to the laundromat.

It had to be said, you always had that problem of focusing on the task at hand. While the clothes were being washed, you were on your phone, texting your boss about your next work and playing candy crush at the same time. Once the washing and drying was done, you put back everything in your bag and walked to the exit, your eyes still glued to your phone.

That’s when you hit it. The wall. Well, you thought it was a wall, with how hard and solid it was. With a little shriek, you dropped everything you were holding. Your bag was luckily tied and rolled away while your phone crashed and a broken sound echoed in your ears.

“Shit!” You exclaimed, immediately going for your phone, sighing in relief when you saw the device had no damage, as the phone case took all of it.

“Son of a bitch, I’m so sorry,” someone said and legs entered your sight. Your eyes roamed up, noticing bowlegs hidden under the distressed jeans. Up and up and you saw flannel, black shirt, and finally, perfection.

That man was beyond beautiful. Getting up quickly, you stared at him for a few seconds, getting lost in his magnificent green eyes. “It’s uh… My fault, I should be looking where I go,” you managed to mutter as you understood you didn’t walk into a wall, but into him.

“It’s fine, really, you got all the fall damage,” he grinned at you, and god, that smile was devastating. “Your phone’s okay?”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly smiled, waving your phone to show him. “It’s okay.” You stayed like that a couple of seconds more before noticing it was plain creepy to stare at him. Gosh you were so awkward. “I should be going, so… It was nice uh meeting you,” you babbled, walking quickly to the trash bag on the floor to pick it up.

“Hey, wait,” the man said and you turned your head towards him. “What’s your name?”

You pondered if you should tell him, after all, it wasn’t everyday that you met the perfect man in a laundromat. Perfect man that even asked for your name. You had to take that opportunity, go out, see him again, do something else than work…

But you were too stubborn and invested in your work for that.

“I’m late, sorry!” You said instead of answering. 

It was only back home that you realized you should have told him your name and asked for his.

At first, nothing was wrong. You threw the bag in your room, planning on putting away the laundry in your drawers later. There were things you needed to do before work tomorrow if you wanted to have that holiday off next week and perhaps, that promotion you wanted so much. 

Around midnight, your eyes were burning, so you decided to call it a day and go to bed. In the darkness of your room, your foot met something round and soft, and you remembered your laundry. You had to put it away before it wrinkled in the bag.

Once the light was on, you opened the bag and fetched one item inside.

“Huh?” You wondered as a green, long sleeve shirt emerged from the bag. You didn’t remember buying that shirt, let alone wash it, but maybe you were just too tired to remember. You shrugged it off and plunged your hand inside for another item. This time, a white button up shirt appeared. Your brain started to spin as you got the next clothing quickly. Ties. T-shirts. An endless amount of flannels. Men’s underwear. Black socks. “Fuck.”

As men’s clothes formed a mountain of problems around you, you realized you had the wrong bag.

-

Finding one particular person in this big ass town you were not familiar with turned out to be more than difficult. It was impossible. 

Not only were you stuck with the green eyed man’s clothes, but you had nothing else to put on except the clothes you had on today and joggers. And tomorrow you had an important day at work, you had to leave a good impression on your boss! You couldn’t go to work with… those!

It was too late to go shopping since it was midnight. And tomorrow, your shift was way too early for you to buy clothes before it started. You had no other choice but to wear his stuff.

The next morning, it was with anxiety at the top that you put on his green shirt, noticing it was very comfortable, in the end, and picked a random pair of jogger pants. That would have to do, you were already late.

Turned out, your outfit didn’t seem to please your boss. Even if your presentation was more than perfect, flawless, even, that you worked your ass off for it, the moment you stepped in with that shirt (that was very comfortable, so much more comfortable than the tight skirt and blouse you usually wear), you knew you lost your chance, your holiday and the promotion.

But it wasn't a bad thing. Because somehow… It opened your eyes. 

You put so much effort in that work, so much time, lost so many opportunities to simply live, pushed away your dreams… And for what? To get denied when you arrive in a shirt? It made you realize you didn’t even like that job. It was stressful, and it made you miserable. It wasn’t what you wanted to do. You wanted to go back to school, study and get your dream job. And it wasn’t it.

With all the overtime you did at that place, you were okay financially to quit that job and get a less stressful one while you would go back to school. So that was what you did, you quitted your job and fuck, did it feel good to be free.

You were on your way back home, feeling lighter than ever, when a familiar voice sounded behind you.

“Hey! That’s my shirt!”

Turning back, you met those beautiful green eyes again. But this time, the man wasn’t alone, there was a taller man next to him. You noticed the green eyed one had baggy clothes on, probably his.

“It’s you!” You smiled at seeing him again. What were the odds? “So, I think we mixed bags,” you laughed at his expression following the more than obvious statement you just made.

“Yeah, I think so too,” he grinned, relief washing over his face. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry, I was at work, losing my job,” you shrugged, but before he could add something, you were quicker. “This is the best day of my life. And this,” you touched the shirt, “is now my lucky shirt.”

“You lost your job and it’s the best day of your life?” The other man wondered. You nodded. 

“It’s my shirt, by the way,” the green eyed one muttered under his breath, his comment making you smile more.

“It made me realize what I was losing with this job,” you shrugged simply. “I wasn’t happy there. But you weren't looking for me to know about my life, right? Come on, I’ll go fetch your clothes at my place.”

Once the laundry was with their right owner, it was time to say goodbye. Only one day went by, and yet, it felt like an adventure that lasted a week. Just because you met that stranger at a laundromat and switched bags by mistake. 

Who in their right mind put their clean laundry in a trash bag anyway? Like, really? You thought you were the only one.

Before the two men left, you stopped the green eyed one. The other said he would wait outside, leaving you alone with him.

“I’m still wearing your shirt,” you said, shyness filling your face with heat. 

“You can keep it,” he replied. “Seems like it brings you luck. And it fits you nicely,” he winked, starting to walk away, but you stopped him again.

“Wait… Uhm… What’s your name?” 

The man turned, and you met his beautiful eyes once again. “Dean. I’m Dean.”

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you,” you smiled. “Do you think I could get your number? You know, just in case there’s still some clothes we mixed,” you swayed from one foot to the other, not believing you had the guts to finally ask him. If someone told you just yesterday you would ask someone their numbers, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Of course,” Dean said as he looked for his phone in his pockets so you could write your number in it. “Only if you give me yours first.”

Yeah. That day was good. And it was official, that shirt was your lucky shirt.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​​ @fictional-affairs​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @cryptichobbit​​

Supernatural Tag List: @cryptichobbit​ @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24​ @fiftyshadesgrl​

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @siospins2​​ @kazsrm67​​ @wtrpxrks​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​ @charred-angelwings​​ @jensendreamland​​ @deanswaywardgirl​​ @happyt0exist​​ @waynes-multiverse​

#any fandom fluff bingo #dean winchester #supernatural dean #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x you #supernatural dean x reader smut #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff #dean winchester meet cute #dean winchester laundromat #laundromate meet cute

[mlobsters]

supernatural s7e6 slash fiction (w. robbie thompson)

episode title fills me with dread. good sign. another unfamiliar writer. trademark sam forearm flex

DEAN All right. Well, that settles it. We find these ass monkeys, and we kill them ourselves. BOBBY Wait a sec. Every form of law enforcement in the country has seen your ugly mugs this morning. DEAN Exactly. So what's the point in trying to hide?

what kind of dumbass reasoning

okay so is it slash as in slasher? and just a poke at fans to make them think it's gonna be hot man on man action

maybe don't take the impala, a giant noisy incredibly noticeable classic car. is the slash fiction with us in the room right now? all right well i recognize this dude's name because it's got devereaux in it just like one of my all-time favorite hannibal fic writers @devereauxsdisease - so funny, so good. highly recommend if you're in the mood for some hannigram

now. the real question. will the new computer have.. say it with me, untitled 1 and 2. also, the actual real question. this was before having any sort of remote storage was common, and they probably had stuff saved on that hard drive. okay okay WAIT. we could pretend that they back up a snapshot to an external drive.. that could conceivably transfer their desktop settings too. it's conceivable sam's on the ball. (however mister devereaux would want to smash that too, whatever)

seeing jody in her cute little fitted leather jacket and jeans got me wondering how old her actress is - born in 1969 which is the same year as ellen's actress. bobby apparently consistently pulling women 19 years his junior

so like okay with this whole fucking leviathan shifter situation, should they like. stab them to see what color they bleed, before interacting with someone they supposedly know

DEAN You know, it's bad enough that they're ganking people, wearing our mugs, but now this? Have us driving around in this... this caboodle while Baby's on lockdown. SAM It's temporary, Dean. DEAN Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

oh god the eyeroll i did i think i pulled something (i will admit i laughed too). dirty dancing was a very regular part of my childhood. oh, not the lip syncing to air supply. why must they make dean do these things

LEVIATHAN!SAM I'm serious. It's nothing but Satan-vision on the inside.

all right them ragging on the boys with an inside perspective is funny.

okay if they're cosplaying the pulp fiction diner robbery, i think that makes dean honey bunny

whoa jump scare it's teen wolf bad grandpa, my least favorite character! he was on bsg too

teen wolf - michael hogan as gerard argent

appreciate they showed us sam's healing scar without it being the focal point

DEAN Sammy. DEAN Not Sammy.

ok that was cute. and the nickname forever and ever warms the cockles of my heart

LEVIATHAN!DEAN You could be anything. You're strong, you're uninhibited. You're smart enough, believe it or not. But you're so caught up in being good and taking care of each other.

oh GOD fucking stabbing jewel staite i had forgotten this is still a dangling source of conflict. THANKS I HATE IT STILL. they better fucking talk about this instead of oh sam's hiding that he knows and dean's hiding that he did it and feels guilty and doesn't know sam knows bullSHIT.

DICK ROMAN Now it's your turn to listen. I'd sooner swim through hot garbage than shake hands with a bottom-feeding mutation like you. You demons are ugly, lazy, gold-digging whores. You're less than humans, and they're not good for much till you dip 'em in garlic sauce. I'd never work with you, Crowley. In fact, if I wasn't busy with better things, I might actively wipe your kind from the face of the Universe. And you'd deserve it. Are we clear?

well i guess that frees up crowley to work with the good guys

great. what i hate more than them being in trouble with the law, them splitting up/sam walking away. i get it in a variety of ways, but i still hate it. blergh. also what a miserable little outfit he's wearing. sometimes leans into the dadcore a little too much

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 7x06 #spnhiky #hiky #teen wolf #gerard argent #michael hogan #robbie thompson #spn desktop background update #amy pond #jewel staite

[nightskied]

C. ROBINSON : life after (pt . II)

after losing her job , she moved into the building that the murder had taken place in . she'd put earbuds in when the scratching on the walls weirded her out , and keep a flashlight nearby for when the lights flickered or went out entirely . ignored the shadowy paces outside her door . one of the women that lived in the building , an old woman with jagged features and the loveliest smile she'd seen , gave her a little pouch once , told her to keep it by the door . cassie took the pouch , took the advice , and remembered dean : she put a line of salt at the door .

during the days , she'd knock on publisher's doors with the pile of articles she'd complied into a makeshift book . a string of no . and once she'd burned through all of her savings , once she'd indebted herself to her mother and the bank , she got a job in a cd store . part time working the counter and public service , part time arranging the cd's in the back .

there was one time she will refuse to admit what happened , but it happened nonetheless : the shelving she'd walked right past fell with nothing to prompt it to do so , and when she turned around , a dirty - looking woman with messed up , matted blonde hair , wide eyes rimmed with the darkest , violet circles she'd seen in her life . and twitching fists to her sides , where open wrists matched a violet necklace engraved into her skin . GO ! she commanded , and cassie obeyed . she left the dusty basement of the record store , left the job , and not soon after left the apartment complex , taking first and foremost the pouch given to her by the woman .

for a while , she lived with her mother again . in good timing , seeing as the woman had suffered a fall and could use the extra pair of hands around , even if she did have a boyfriend now that came by with flowers and took her out to dinner and made her laugh . life truly does go on .

by chance , a publisher was accompanying a writer in a book tour , and cassie was a fan of said writer , so she took her car and drove into that town with a couple of friends ( it would be worth to mention that CARVER EDLUND was also in town at the same time ) . that's where cassie met THOMAS GODDARD , who would later be her husband .

thomas and her hit it off pretty quickly , a lot of skin involved in the matter , and a lot of talking about systemic issues . she easily brought up ( and brought out ) the array of articles she'd written in new orleans , and he was interested . it turned out not to be a strategy to get her into bed , and after they spent a few nights and he had to continue with the book tour , he took her number and promised to call her when he was back in the office .

and he did . to make work easier , cassie moved to seattle with expenses half - paid by the publishing company . there , she repeated the cycle of getting involved with the community , working with them . and , this time , she touched base with the nearest police department , where she managed to find only one ally : the girl working the receptionist desk .

her articles got published as a book , and she went back to new orleans to reunite with the live stories of it .

she got married to thomas not long after , then pregnant with her first four months later , at twenty - eight .

#* cassie robinson. #* meta. #* cassie robinson: meta. #my dotter .

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles | DCCon 2019| EW | SDCC 2019 |  

#DeanWinchesterDeservedBetter #JensenAcklesDeservedBetter

#Jensen Ackles #Dean Winchester #JensenEdit #Jensen x Dean #DCCon19 #DeanWinchesterDeservedBetter #SDCC2019 #poor guy he knew it #and no one listened to him #just like it happens with Dean on the show #he knows something is off asks the character not to do the thing #and in the end it all ends badly #he had to see the writers doing Dean dirty and he could do nothing #just like Emilia Clarke on GoT #you wasn't too close to it #you more than anyone knew what was right for Dean #you have been playing him for 15 years #you are there since day one #it's more than any writer on this show your opinion is the one that should matter the most #looks like time wise he already knew about how the show was ending at sdcc #which makes this worse

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.

#if you told me i'd be doing this in 2020 three weeks ago i'd have laughed in your face :/ #deancas #supernatural #fic recs #spn femslash #destiel #fic #the alie tag #spn posting

[cigarettesandslushies]

destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms 

word count: 1,700 

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

#jd #jason dean #heathers #jd heathers #jason dean heathers #jd fanfic #jason dean fanfic #heathers fanfic #jd x reader #jason dean x reader #heathers jd #heathers jason dean

[the-shared-brain-in-retrograde]

Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters

Or, What if Clint Barton had Magical Diabetes?

a joint review...

Well, well, fuck me, well (as our good friend Sebastian would say). A series of choices were made bringing this film into fruition, and we suppose we will discuss them now.

The spirit of this week's review is summed up in the wise words of @cassandrafey who said last night, while discussing our feelings on the movie we'd just endured, "let’s not get too bogged down in the fine details...", so we won't, because the writers and director didn't seem to either.

Firstly we didn't know MTV made films, and in hindsight this is probably why. They gave it a go, good for them, but perhaps they should stick to terrible car crash tv instead.

Shall we start at the beginning when two children are told to stay put and instead break into a poor woman's house, and begin to eat it. Don't do that. We don't like to victim blame in this house, but also you sort of brought this on yourselves kids. But to share equal disgust with the witch, that oven was not suitable for cooking in. Too flamey, that's a burning oven, and no one wants burnt food. Shame on everyone involved.

We then get quite the animated montage of anti witch propaganda. Boo, but it brings us up to speed with the story we guess, and then straight into town where a man is shouting utter rot. He's accusing a woman of being a witch (haven't we all been there ladies...) but obvs she can't be a witch (as expert Hansel helpfully points out) as she is far too pretty, and witches are terribly ugly and dress as if they're from Norwegian Death Metal bands that went to Camden Market in the 00s to buy their entire wardrobe.

Can you hear the bitterness yet?

We should point out this is the first of many times Hansel doesn't know his arse from his elbow. It’s not even himbo energy, it’s just stupidity. Becks described our Hansel in her notes as 'Poundland Dean Winchester', which made Cass raise an eyebrow in question, and Becks now sees (after completing the film) that she was being far too optimistic. Also, a choice was made or maybe a hand forced, with getting the pair to use American accents in what we presume to be medieval Europe (although who the fuck knows with outfits and the weapons). Becks has decided it was down to dear Gemma to step up as we're pretty sure we've never heard Jeremy Renner do a non-american accent. Perhaps that's slander, but until proven otherwise it’s the side we're on. Come on Jezza, let’s hear it!

Cass really took to Gretel from the start. She liked it when she nutted that man, she saw it coming and loved it a lot. She also liked Gretel's hair and she thought she was also quite clever. Although Becks pointed out that, with Hansel seeming pretty dim, it’s all relative isn’t it?

They then go break into another witch's house and kill her. Turns out she had nothing to do with them missing kids, and the only crime she'd committed was identity theft, Noel Fielding to be precise. Then they nicked her stuff and talked shit about once in a generation blood moons. Factually incorrect, but go on.

We're then treated to the most horrific scene of the movie, enough to make any person stomach turn. A beer trough. A fucking beer trough. WERP. That can't be a thing surely?! Just an open trough of beer that any old fucker can stick their dirty hand (or other appendages) in and get a drink. DISGUSTING. Becks felt very strongly about this, and missed some key plot points that followed due to the rage now simmering. Cass however was on the ball, and we got to meet a weirdo kid with a scrap book, who had collected down all manner of stalkerish clippings, thoughts and feelings about his absolute faves, and put them all together in a neat book that he could keep forever. What a fucking weirdo. We definitely think that's weird and would never do anything like that...

Meanwhile a band of stupid men go into the woods at night to go hunt down a witch, where they meet a woman alone in the woods, and don't realise she's a witch, because they are fucking idiots, and as such die terrible deaths. We love to see it.

The next day we're introduced to a plot point that Cass declares dances on the line between stupidity and genius. We are of course talking about the magical diabetes. After eating too much of the witch's house and then being forced to eat more of it, Hansel now has magical diabetes, which he says he needs to take medicine for regularly after COLLAPSING (fucking takes your meds before it gets to that point you tit) but we don't really hear any more about it until the end of the film. Such good storytelling. He also does a bit of painful flirting with the white witch they saved earlier. Hansel is the worst at flirting we have ever seen. Ever. Ever. Stop talking about witches' piss. We don't like to talk on behalf of women everywhere but, come on now.

Then he buys some kids clothes, and builds a pumpkin child in the woods with a medieval gramophone, and lures in a hedgehog headed dumb dumb of a witch. Who shouts ‘help I’m alone in the woods’ honestly? It was clearly a trap, hedgehog head.

Becks has just had a small break whilst trying to write this.

The more I think about this film the more I hate it. Good gods...

Anyway, they capture the witch, who tells them the witches' plan, nice one idiot, so they are away to go find the only child born in April in the whole town (how convenient). Becks' favourite head witch rocks up though, which is nice, comes to be a bit menacing, but Cass takes it all the wrong way and loses her mind (clearly thoughts of Noel Fielding still lurking about towards the forefront…)

"I go by many names..."

Cass: Some call me Secret Peter!

"None of which you are worthy of pronouncing."

Becks loved it none the less. There was also some storytelling here, where Gretel, and her family, clearly are more linked to the witches than they thought.

Meanwhile, the other witch has Hansel by the dick, which elicited quite the response from both of us. Surprise from Cass, thrilled encouragement from Becks. She really went for it. Good for her. He did get his own back with a swift stab to the eye though, and then hitched a ride as she flew off on her broom.

Gretel then wakes up being molested by Goldilocks, as she ties to figure out the events and consequences of the night before. Becks would like to have seen Gretel give that kid a sharp smack at this point, and Cass would like to have seen her smack all types of people. That's the problem with this film, men.

Clint then shows through a little, as we find him hung upside down from a tree, moaning and generally exuding old man energy. But we don't like to compare Clint to Hansel. Because no.

As Gretel is beaten, bites a man's nose off, and is threatened with rape, Hansel gets his end off with the white witch in the pond. Quite different storylines right? It does lead us swiftly into another favourite part of the film for Cass, the part were we are introduced to the feminist troll. And what is this trolls name, we hear you ask? Well we’ll tell you. It’s Edward. Edward the troll. Who gave off creepy Ludo vibes, but out of all the men in the film seemed like one of the better ones.

Then we get told more important plot points.

"Once upon a time, near a shitty little town..." and everyone turns out to be a witch, apart from Hansel who has fucked one, so it’s sort of the same.

We'd like to say that we had sort of given up by this point in the film, although because we are professional women we did keep going until the bitter end, but our hearts and minds were not in it, so we apologise for the vagueness.

Gretel gets kidnapped again, and all the other witches turn up in their cool outfits and batman voices, then Hansel rocks up talking shit like any woman is going to listen to him, and then there are machine guns. It was a lot, and yet at the same time, somehow disappointing.

For supposedly very powerful women, they all seemed very easy to kill, and the male director really showed through with exploding heads and tits just suspended there.

Then we had the cheese wire trap. We really don't understand, if you're going to trap someone who can fly, surely you need to make your trap bigger then a few meters high? Surely just fly over it?!

@cassandrafey: What is this, We're Going on a fucking Bear Hunt?

@becksxoxo: Oooh, literary reference.

Anyway, most of them didn't just fly over, they flew through and got sliced the fuck up. Apart from the Head Witch, obvs, as she was the only one with a pissing brain in the whole coven.

Then we go back to the start, back to where it all began, the gingerbread house.

Hansel chooses to enter the building using a forward roll (and you all know how much we love a forward roll, it’s our favourite thing ever, and may have even redeemed the whole film for us.) It has inspired Cass to do this for each new place she enters, but without getting smacked in the face with a spade on completion.

We honestly don't know what happens next. There's a fight, and they managed to kill the Head Witch with the spade she smacked him in the face with. But they don't burn her, which we think will come bite them in the arse should a second film ever be made (gods we hope not).

Also look at that gif up there, alongside the context of a man saying to a woman "who did this to you?" and tell me you're confused if they're brother and sister or not. Neither of us have siblings, but we're pretty sure this is straying into Game of Thrones territory.

In conclusion, this movie was terrible.

We don't think this has been our best review ever, and we really are blaming it on the film we were working with. There is very little to comment on as the film is just so bleh. There is no substance, and very little style. We've read other people's reviews, and we just don't get it. It’s got over 6 stars on IMBD, and some high scoring reviews on Letterboxd. So many people have it down as a guilty pleasure, but we just don't get it. But if it has made you happy go for it. However, we will be enquiring as to who we need to contact to get all the time we have wasted on this film back.

Next week will be better. We're taking on Zodiac for our Bruce Banner film, with extra points as we also have dear Tony and fart helmet Quentin Beck. We shall see you then.

love becks and cass

#what if...? #what if clint barton had magical diabetes? #hansel and gretel: witch hunters #hansel and gretel #hansel #gretel #jeremy renner #gemma arterton #marvel cinematic universe #film review #movie review #this was the worst #we have not had a good time #clint barton would never #the shared brain in retrograde presents what if #this was not it

[pieces-by-me]

Tiers and Snowflakes

This is part two of @waiting4inspiration​ ‘s 9k writing challenge. Also again here you are such a good writer it blows my mind away and I am so happy that I stubbed apron your blog one day. You are also on of the first blogs I ever followed. So to be able to write for you makes me so happy ✨

Words: 1155

Summary: Ivar lost the best thing in his life. His love.

Prompt:

ripped books

torn dress

brown hair full of snowflakes

Warnings: death, straight up death and ways people died. ANGST. sadness and grieve.

Snow was falling on the ground of the poppy field where they used to sit. Everything was colored in a grey. Cold and gloomy, wet and making you shiver. Perfect for such a miserable day. The only warmth Ivar could feel was from the raging fire before him. The one that took the body of his love away.

Y/N never liked the sea. She was afraid of it since she could walk. So when the time came that she should be sent to Valhalla, Ivar knew that she would want to be burned on the ground. Surrounded by nothing but green and flowers. The gods didn't grant her the flowers but send snow. But she would have loved that as well. She was always happy with what she was given. Never asking for more then she needed, never needing to be reminded of what to do in situations, she knew her role and managed it well. She was the only one who could take care of Ivar, with his moods, with his legs, with him. She knew and loved him. And he loves her.

Ivar would always love and miss her. Her eyes, her voice, her smile. The way she would braid his hair in the morning before the sun rose. That she knew his favorite foods and would make them for him when he had a hard day. The hugs she would give him late at night, when his legs would want him to end it all, she would hold him and sing to him. She would make his pain go away and it would only return when she had to go.

What was he supposed to do now, now that shes gone? Taken from him in such a way he wanted to set the whole world on fire.

Ivar was worried the whole day. Y/N said she would be back by the time the sun would set. Yet she wasn't. He knew that sometimes she took longer routs to walk back, but never this long. A foreboding feeling of dread made itself known to Ivar and he send every men out to look for her. He begged the gods with all he had that they would bring her back to him. Pleaded that he could have her in his arms again.

But how cruel the gods are.

They found her, but now really.They found her body in an ally, laying in the muddy ground. Bruised and bloody. Her dress was torn in places and dirty in others. A horrid picture of a struggle that was lost. When Ivar was brought to her he didn't believe his eyes. How could it be that his love was laying before him, but he could never reach her again. His screamed were heard all over Kattegat.

He demanded for her to be brought back inside the great hall. He didn't take his eyes from her, while hers looked dead in the sky. Glazed over and empty. She would never see the light of day again, never skip through one of her books, never wipe a tear away that escaped from laughter.

Now that she was clean, Ivar could see the handprint on her neck. The touch that stole her from him. She must have fought back quite harshly by the way her nails were ripped apart. He hoped she scratched one of the culprit's eyes out so that he would always be marked and that Ivar could find him and do far worse things to him. Oh how he would get his revenge. Slowly and cruel. He would not sleep until he found the one that did this.

No one dared to talk to him in the following days. Everyone that did was met with screams and insults. Harsh words that hurt to the core. No one was there to get him out of his darkness, now that Y/N was gone. He had no light to guid him. Not even his brothers could help him. It was as if Ivar died with her. But the hate and rage he felt were a drive forward. To find the culprit who did it and end his life. And Ivar did.

The corpse of the men still hung over the beams of the entrance to Kattegat.

The sound of wood cracking diminished the screams of the murderer that echoed in Ivar's head, and with that brought him back to the meadow. He was the only one still sitting there. Your family, the small one you still had left, tears streaking down their faces. They couldn't bare to see your body go up in flames. Ivar's brothers didn't want to leave him there, but he insisted on being alone with you one last time.

The fire dwindled down slowly so he knew it was time. IN his hands was a book. One neither of you could read but still you loved it with all your heart. You had it with you when they found you. Now the once clean book was ripped and muddy. Still he knew that you would still love it just as much.

“My sweet Y/N. You were taken from me to a place I cannot follow you. Not yet. But believe me, we will see each other again in Valhalla, for the gods would be fools not to let you eat with them in their golden halls.” With his words the tears, the once he thought he had not one left to spare, returned. “I made sure your death was avenged. And I hope you heard the screams of the rat that took you. I hope it brings you closer to peace.”

Ivar brought his body up with a grunt as he took his crutch as a prop to bring him closer to the flames. Clutching on the book. The last thing from you he had. “I know you will miss this”

He laid the book to the place close to were your head was and with wobbling steps he made his way back. Sitting on the only place not overtaken from snow.

“I love you. You know that and it is something that will never change. And I will make sure that we will see each other again in Valhalla. So do not miss me. Drink and celebrate with the old gods. Greet father from me, he always loved as his own daughter. But I will miss you. Because now I have nothing left that holds me up.”

Ivar didn't know how long he sat there. He didn't feel hunger or the need to sleep. He didn't hear anything but the wind and the crackling of flames. Nothing was there when he looked inside of him. He simply didn't feel. He didn't know if he ever could feel again.

After what felt like an eternity the sun set and the fire burned out, leaving him with nothing but ashes and snowflakes in his hair.

_________________________________

I hope you like this! please tell me what you fought of this and have a nice day☀️

Part 1 is here: Smiles and Snowflakes

I forgot to tag people🙈

@youbloodymadgenius @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

#multipleof3challenge #history vikings #vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic #my work

[percywinchester27]

La Petite Mort

Word count: 2.1K

Pairing: Dean X Reader AU

Warnings: None, just fluff, humour and implied sex ;)

Series Summary: The reader has just shifted to a new flat and boy, someone on the floor has a really banging sex life! The passionate moans have been keeping her up for several nights in row and enough is enough! Reader has her suspicions, but is it really the green-eyed hottie from room no. 307?  

A/N: It’s a neighbours!AU. I’m finally writing one. So excited to share it with you guys. Hope y’all like it! <3

Beta: The best babe, @deanssweetheart23​​​​​

Everything was fine till the banging started. Pun very much intended.

The shift had been smooth, the job was going great and life was finally on track. You had slid under the covers with the most satisfied smile in years only to be woken up to a lady very, very, very happy with her life.

Oh yeah… oh yeah… ahhh right there… oh fuck yeah…

You sat up right in your bed, eyes wide, face hot.

Third night in a row. Third fucking night. Literally.

What in the good heavens? The landlady might have mentioned this while renting out the flat!

Shoving the pillow over your ears, you fell back onto the mattress, closing your eyes shut very tightly. Eventually sleep overtook you and you lapsed into lousy dreams of trying to catch the taxi which kept evading you. Not a metaphor for your sex life at all. Nope.

The disturbed sleep didn’t help your mood the following day. Everyone at the office thought of you as a happy-go lucky person. Lately, they were seeing this whole new dark side of you. Sleep was essential to your functioning. 

In the evening, on your way back, you stopped by the coffee shop downstairs to pick up a brownie. It was a little place; busy yet quaint. The barista, Charlie, made two hearts in your coffee instead of one. That put the biggest smile on your face. 

At least, the day was ending on a high note.

Your newly rented flat was on the third floor of a very complicated building. One staircase did not directly lead into another. An entire hallway had to be crossed to get to it. The design probably broke a hundred different by laws and someone was definitely paid off in the city civil office to get a construction permit. You did not want to imagine how the people would fare in case of a fire emergency. Learning the escape plan was like memorising the map of a treasure hunt. You escape, you win. You lose… whoops! Better luck in next life. But the rent was cheap and you were already living all the clichés of a struggling writer- one incomplete book, a job at a publishing house and addiction to coffee. So, yes, you would brave fire when it came to being able to afford a living.

Struggling with the brownie package and the coffee in your hand you jammed the key into the door. It didn’t go in. 

What the hell?

You tried again, and once more the key got jammed. On a closer look, you realised that the lock didn’t resemble yours at all. Stepping back, you peered at the door. 307. Not 306- which was yours.

The floor design was insane and instead of the flats being lined up next to each other, they were all fronting one another in a haphazard fashion. Shaking your head, you took a step back and jammed the key into the lock of your own flat.

Jesus! You’re losing it, Y/N.

Shirking off the mild irritation, you cooked yourself a hot cup of instant noodles, put on your favourite TV show and slinked into your couch. Tonight’s episode was going to reveal who the murderer was and you had been dying for the suspense to finally end. 

Just when the protagonist was about to point a gun at the killer in the shadows…

Oh my God... you’re incredible… aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh…

You completely abandoned the TV and jumped up from the sofa. The fire hazard might still be worth it, but the thin walls so weren’t.

On tiptoes, you made your way to the east side wall, putting your ear against it. The noise wasn’t coming from upstairs. That was the only sure thing. But it was impossible to pinpoint the direction. The moans were reverberating through the walls. So loudly that there was no escaping it. Not in the bedroom, the kitchen or the living room sofa. 

Of all of them, the east wall seemed like the culprit. 

Right there… yeah…

307. Whoever it was in that room needed to calm the FUCK down. You grabbed your blanket and dragged it to the end of the living room, fuming. What ticked you off was how much this was ticking you off.

It’s sleep you told yourself. The lack of sleep was the only thing making you mad. The sex noises couldn’t be it. Because there were other noises- a dog barked somewhere occasionally, one of the rooms had a very loud stereo and someone was too much into baking- the beater was ceaseless. No, it had to be the timing and your wrecked sleep schedule.

Just like the nights before, you covered your ears and started reciting the story of the manuscript you had been reading at work. Eventually, sleep overtook you again.

The next morning you woke up in a crappier mood. If that was even possible.

Breathing down on anything and everything, you locked the door on your way out for work. Turning into the corridor, you ran into a wall of solid flesh. 

In your groggy, sleep deprived state, the first thing you noticed was the way he smelled- leather and whiskey and something headier than that. It was divine. Next, you looked up into those eyes- stunning green, like sparkling water running over jade.

“Easy there, sweetheart!” The guy smirked. 

You straightened yourself and took a step back. In front of you stood the most handsome guy you had ever seen. He was tall, with dirty blond hair, almost brown, and those stunning eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. You had one of those dumb faces that gave away every damn thought crossing through your brain, so obviously you tried your best not to meet his gaze. Which was a shame really. That face demanded to be ogled at. Let alone the body that followed.

“No, no… I didn’t mind at all.” 

You saw him reach out to the door of 307.

“You’re the one who lives there?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure. You want a tour?”

Uhgg the best looking guy and he has to be such a douche!

Slipping past him, you stomped off towards the stairs. This too-good-looking-for-the-world asshat had been ruining your nights and in turn your life. 

You knew it was wrong to be mad at him without, at least, talking about the issue first. A polite conversation explaining your situation wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world now, would it? But how does one start a conversation pertaining to that? After all, he wasn’t exactly the one making the noise. What would you say?

So, hey would you mind pleasuring your girlfriend a little less? 

Or better. Ever heard of a ball gag?

Mere thought of it made you shudder.

The work day was spent trying to shove your neighbour's stupidly handsome face out of your mind. It didn’t help that your mother kept calling, repeatedly. You knew what she had to say. How you should have taken that bigger job at Royal’s publishing. How the writing career might never take off. How you really should get a boyfriend now, or you’ll be the only unmarried cousin in the family.

Usually you could entertain your mother with well-timed hmms and ahhs. Today wasn’t that day.

Bone-tired and absentminded, you jammed the key in the keyhole in the evening, only for it to get stuck again. You looked up at the door. 307.

Well, shit!

Putting both your hands into it, you yanked the key with all your might, just as the door opened. There he stood, with his crooked smirk, dimples digging in, wearing nothing but a thin cotton t-shirt and sweatpants that hung all too low on those hips.

“You don’t need to break into my house. I already offered a tour.” Of course, god gave him an irresistible voice. Cause at this point, why not?

“Sorry,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “I keep getting the wrong door. This one’s mine.”

“Oh, so you’re the one in 306!” You could feel his smirk more than see it. “Looks like you’re having a good ol’ time in there.”

“Excuse me?”

The guy raised scratched the back of his neck, face apologetic. “You might… ya know… just keep the voice down in there?”

The audacity of this guy!

“Rich of you to ask anyone to keep it down!” You hissed. “Why don’t you tell your girlfriend to keep it low?” 

With that, you shut your door in his surprised face. The worst part was, after bumping into him in the morning, your mind was producing distinct images of him in the bed, doing things to a woman. You had tried your best not to let them make a home in your head. But like a stickly tenant, they refused to evacuate. No wonder it was hard to look him in those brilliant, brilliant green eyes. The guy was hot! There was no denying that. You weren’t even willing to accept to yourself just how much time you had put into imagining him naked.

If anything, the denial mixed with your pre-existing irritation and sleep deprivation had you ready tonight. 

So the moment the enamoured voice started begging, you hopped out of your chair. You had every intention of yelling yourself hoarse at the delectable resident next door, but the moment you stepped into the corridor, you came face to face with the very man. 

He was- thankfully, completely clothed- looking a bit harassed, himself.

aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh… right there...

Your head whipped up to the suspected direction of the voice, and back at him. “Wait, you aren’t… it’s not...?”

His face mirrored your expression of surprise and then he burst out laughing. “Looks like we’ve both been played.”

“Not intentionally,” you said, peering at the adjacent doors, mostly to not look at him. “Where do you think it’s coming from?”

He shot a glance at the door opposite to his. “If it’s not you, my best guess is that guy over there. I mean, if you ask me, Nick over there doesn’t look the type to make a woman that happy… but what do I know?”

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people,” you said, taking a tentative step towards the said door.

Mr. hot guy smartpants laughed. “Oh, trust me. He’s the douchiest douche you’ll ever meet. Guy like that? Definitely selfish in bed.”

You frowned at him.

“He asks women in the street to smile more,” hot guy explained.

“Uhhgg… yeah you’re right. It’s definitely not him.”

Hot guy pointed his fingers at the rest of the doors. “That one’s rented by three guys. I don’t think it’s them. Mrs. Hendrickson over there works night shifts. I have no clue who lives in there,” he pointed to the last door, directly in front of you.

Goodness you’re amazing...

“Yes, lady, we already know!” He called out.

You couldn’t help the giggle that burst through your lips.

His eyes softened. “Dean Winchester,” he said, offering his hand.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, taking his. He had a firm grip. A very funny sensation gripped your stomach. Like a flutter. Nervousness? 

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N.” He smirked. “I sure wish the circumstances were better.”

You bit your lip. “Listen, I’m sorry for the comment about your girlfriend. I was just mad about, you know... “

“Don’t worry about it. My non-existent girlfriend is very cool. She took no offense.”

You snorted.

“I was dead serious about the house tour,” He winked. “I can promise great coffee.”

“Sure, sometime soon.”

He shot a look at the door with the unknown occupants again. “I hate to leave this here, but I think we should get whatever kind of shuteye we can while they’re quiet over there, huh?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hurried back to your flat. “Night, Dean.”

He gave you his crooked grin again, just a hint of mischief. “Night, Y/N.”

You knew it wasn’t him now, and he was right about making the most of the quiet and fucking off to sleep, and yet, each time you closed your eyes, your mind decided to replay your imaginations for you. With a start, you sat up in your bed, a thought occurring to you like a hit on the head- If you had been thinking about him that way? Had he been imagining you as well?

Blood rushed to your face at the very idea. Though a tiny part of you begged for the answer- would it be such a bad thing if he had?

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

A/N 2: So? So? SO??? What do you think?

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#dean x reader fluff #dean winchester x reader #neighbors!AU #bartender!Dean #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #neighbor!dean #Ana writes LPM #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #lpm 1 #anawrites #anawritesspn #q

[wincestation]

Wincest in the Pilot (aka my final paper)

2k of academic rambling. I got plenty of help and inspiration from this post and this blog review. Also huge thanks to @s2e11playthings for helping me find the latter. It is me! Essay-anon came out of the shadows!

The first interaction between the two brothers as adults occurs when Dean sneaks into Sam's apartment in the middle of the night. Sam fights the intruder before the latter pins him to the floor, making him realize it's his brother. The first words Dean tells him after not seeing him for two years are, "Easy, tiger." Dean's hand grabs Sam's neck and he smiles broadly at his little brother. As stated in the subsequent dialogue, the reason Dean appears this way is because he knows Sam would not have answered the phone if he had called. Why? the only reason Dean would call (which is also the reason he showed up) is that something happened to their father. Sam knows this, and maybe he didn't care if something really did happen to John. But what if John was the one who called? Maybe then Sam would answer, because he knows that this phone call has a different meaning: something happened to Dean.

Sam and Dean step outside to talk. Sam initially refuses to come with his brother, saying he is done with hunting, with the life that Dean and their father lead. Dean mocks Sam's aspiration for a normal life, perhaps as part of an attempt to persuade Sam to come with him, and return to the life they always shared together. After an argument between the two, involving emotional manipulations on both sides ("It wasn't easy, but it wasn't so bad", Dean dismisses Sam's words; "Do you think Mom would've wanted this for us?" Sam touches on a sensitive point), Dean understands that his brother is not about to give up, and finally reveals the real reason for his arrival:

Dean: I can't do this alone.

Sam: Yes, you can.

Dean: Well, I don't want to.

Dean completely contradicts everything he had said up to this point. In this sentence he expresses an emotional need for Sam, not a practical need. He could have sought out their father alone but chose not to; Maybe he saw the danger to his father's life as a good enough reason for Sam to come back to their lives again. Sam can not remain indifferent to this emotional vulnerability, and agrees to come with him - not because he cares what happens to their father, but because he too, like Dean, needs his brother and does not want to say goodbye to him again.

Sam agrees on one condition: he has an interview on Monday and he must get back on time. Dean agrees. Sam could have offered Dean to sleep on the couch and drive in the morning, or even go after the interview. But he does none of these things, and travels with him at that moment, in the middle of the night, without providing explanations to his girlfriend and without even kissing her goodbye. "At least tell me where you're going?" She calls after him as he leaves, with no answer. This urgency can be interpreted as a concern for the safety of Winchester Sr. but given the relationship between him and Sam, this is probably not the case. Why then is Sam in such a hurry to abandon the life he, allegedly, wants so much? In light of the dialogue between the two brothers the answer seems simple. He missed his brother, and now that he knows this feeling is mutual, he feels he has a good enough reason to leave the "normal" life behind - even if only for one weekend. This confirmation is the real reason he's arguing with his brother. The dialogue between them, according to this interpretation, is full of subtext:

Dean: I will not go until you come with me, or kick me out of your life forever.

Sam: If you want me to come, you need to tell me what I need to hear.

Dean: Don't make me say it out loud.

The two set out to find their father. After research, Sam and Dean discover that the monster of the week is a "woman in white" - a ghost that kills unfaithful men. Later in the episode, the ghost tries to attack Sam, who tells her she can't hurt him, because "I'm not unfaithful, I never was." She replies, "You will be." The hegemonic interpretation, presumably meant by the creators of the series, is that Sam is about to cheat on Jessica with the murderous ghost (with or without his consent). But Sam being targeted can be interpreted in another way. Is he going to betray his girlfriend by wanting to return to the life he shared with Dean and their father? Or even, can it be said that he did not betray her, but his brother, by leaving the family and trying to live a "normal" life with a woman?

The scene on the bridge, in which another confrontation takes place between Sam and Dean, can also be interpreted in two ways. Sam says, half in mockery and half in pity, "Mom is dead, and nothing will bring her back." Dean, in a fit of rage, grabs his brother and slams him at one of the bridge poles. "Don't you dare talk about her like that." This is of course one meaning of things. Another meaning could be, "Dean, I moved on, and nothing will bring me back." To this Dean responds in the only way he knows, "don't you dare not give up on me like that." Throughout the episode, and in this scene in particular, Dean repeatedly mocks Sam's choice to leave college - "Do you really think you're going to become a lawyer? Marry your girl?" - And this ridicule can stem from jealousy over the seemingly perfect and normal life that Sam managed to achieve, but at its core is another jealousy: Sam chose this life over a life with him.

The series hit screens in 2005. About two months after the premiere of the first episode, a blog review titled "Supermatural is Supergay" was published. The author described the series as follows:

It’s like the Hardy Boys, only gayer. I love the awkward sexual tension between the brothers. […] So Dean is the super control freak “top”. He has to be driving at all times. […] Sam rides in the passenger seat. He’s the soft spoken bottom boy, always staring out the window in this deep, dreamy state of mind. No idea what the hell he’s thinking about, but I suspect he is wondering where this relationship is going, and if Dean will ever say “I love you”.

Wait a minute… don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about incest here. See, that's the backstory. They are not really brothers. They are secret lovers, hiding their dirty affair. So they pretend to be brothers so nobody questions why they are together 24/7, why they share a bed. […] Throughout the episodes, they give each other hot glances. It’s never part of the dialogue, they just look like they will rip each other’s clothes off at any given moment. […]

UPDATE: On last Tuesday's episode, "Bugs", they were mistaken for a gay couple and then pretended to be a gay couple in the next scene. See, I told you they are gay guys pretending to be brothers. You heard it here first.

Although the writer was wrong in his assumption - Sam and Dean are indeed brothers - he makes a claim that will receive many reinforcements from the fans. There is a certain tension between the two characters, a codependence bordering on desperation that often later in the show will cause them to take extreme steps to keep each other safe. The brothers' love borders on obsession, which caused many fans to agree with the blogger's opinion - just a week after the first episode was aired, the first online community dedicated to the romantic relationship between the two brothers already opened (sn_slash, or Supernatural Slash, "for all your brotherly needs"). It is difficult to say whether the homoerotic clues came from the creators and were picked up by the audience, or whether the audience interpreted the show as he wished and the creators decided to satisfy their desires, but throughout the series there is recognition of the two's special relationship: In "Bugs" [1x08], everyone is convinced they are a couple and they continue the pretense; In later seasons, the brothers discover that books are being written about their lives, and that many fans of these books are convinced they are a couple (in "The Real Ghostbusters" [5x09] in the Supernatural convention, there is a panel called "The Homoerotic Undertones in Supernatural"); And many of the characters in the series, even those who know about the two being brothers, describe their relationship as one of codependence, blind and absolute love, for which they often sacrifice the entire world ("Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other", [5x19] "The point of no return").

Did the creators not understand that this is the message they are transmitting? It is hard to believe that they were unanimous on the subject, especially in light of all the reflexive references they themselves have planted in the show. If so, what could be their reason for engaging in a relationship that is fundamentally unnatural, perverse and forbidden, socially and often legally? This can be explained with the help of another issue - that of the exclusion of LGBTQ+ relationships from the public sphere and the lack of legitimacy for their visibility. Supernatural hit the screens in 2005, a time that may not seem so long ago, but its gay visibility is still lacking, and in which there was still no legitimacy to present a proud couple in popular culture. Maybe, as the blogger suggested in his review, the creators genuinely wanted to create a series that would center around love between two men, but felt that the world was not ready to see that content explicitly. After all, it was only a few decades ago that homosexuality was also perceived as unnatural, perverse and forbidden. Maybe acknowledging that, the creators chose to turn Sam and Dean into brothers, as if to reassure the conservatives: of course they are not just two men who are together at any given moment, staring at each other longingly and willing to sacrifice the whole world just so they won't be left without each other. That could be interpreted as homosexuality - and beyond the harsh criticism, such TV series simply wouldn't survive (or at least, that is how the creators may have felt at the time). And if some of the fans understood the true meaning in which the creators wanted engage, well, that was not in their hands.

To sum up, it is difficult to argue that this relationship is characterized as purely platonic. Even if the creators did not intend to create such an impression already in the first episode, they were aware of this impression and included explicit references to this unusual relationship. Although only an analysis of the first episode was conducted here, throughout the entire series there are unequivocal statements that support this assumption (some of which I mentioned above, but most of which have been omitted). And perhaps there is no need for many words beyond those uttered by the brothers themselves, for the first time in the pilot, and for the last time in the finale ("Carry on" [15x20]), before they said goodbye to each other for the last time: "I can't do this alone. I don't want to."

#wincest #meta #sam x dean #pilot #i wish all my school papers could be about wincest #thanks for coming to my ted talk

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXXXIX

It was a love story from the very beginning

"You, me... And Sam."

Hello my friends!!! How are you? I feel much better now thanks to all your asks and your memes and your cracks, I adore them all!

Okay, putting that to a side, and still dreaming about how Jensen will give us the ending we all deserve, let's continue with this analysis, because is time to talk about the mixtape.

From butterflies in the stomach and Foreshadows of the new God

When the episode starts, there's a hint of what Jack's mission is. But coming out from Dagon's mouth, it became like a real bad future.

Dagon: Yeah. And he's not gonna stop there. Every sad, weak human, every tight-ass angel, every sniveling demon they'll all be consumed. So go ahead. Play your games. But whether you're healthy or sick, filthy or clean, He will be born. Good times.

Is almost the contrary to what Jack will actually do for the world. He will consume but it will be Chuck's powers until the last drop of it. And against Dagon's speech, he will save each demon and angel and restore everything.

Now, let's talk about CAS coming back to the bunker...

Gif credit @godshipsit

I think his face is saying everything here. The one entering in the bunker after go MIA, was Cas', so, Dean's face is scandalous.

Imagine that suddenly your disappeared crush enters through the door without previous announcement. Of cour we can read the bumping heart allnover Dean's cheek, his eyes went wide, in surprise. 'Is CAS!'

He was so worried this whole time, thinking the worst could happen to him, and now CAS is there, alive.

But his reaction to it will be completely different to Sam's reaction. This was settled to make us see the difference between how a friend would react and how a lover would react. Blatant.

Sam: Hey. You're all right. Um – Where have you been?

Sam is asking as a friend, but Dean, Dean doesn't...

Dean: Let me rephrase that for Sam. Where the hell have you been? And why have you ignored our phone calls?

Okay, let's just stop here, this is the way a wife will ask her husband. But because we are talking about Dean, we can see his shield. His shield is US/WE, his shield is SAM, because he wants to drag his brother into the feeling of being desperately worried. Because recognize that DEAN WAS THE ONLY ONE ALMOAT LOOSING HIS HEAD TRYING TO KNOW IF CAS WAS ALIVE OR WHWRE HE WAS IA SHOWING WEAKNESS, IS SHOWING HIS TRUE FEELINGS FOR THE ANGEL. So, the theme of the I/ME vs the WE/US is perfectly written all over this episode.

Castiel: Where I was, the – the reception was, uh, poor.

Dean: No bars? No bars. That's his excuse. Wow.

Castiel: I was in Heaven. I was working with the angels. When I saw Dagon had captured Kelly, I-I thought they could help.

Okay Castiel is proving he is lying by himself here, because he said first he had not signal, and now, he heard one of the so many voice mails Dean had left in his phone.

Sam: And?

Castiel: Nothing.

Sam: Well, at least you're back. We're glad you're back

And be prepared again for the difference between the friend and the JILTED lover.

Dean: Really? No, I'm sorry. Okay, 'cause while you were striking out in Heaven, we had a shot at Dagon, and we lost.

Maybe Dean was waiting Sam to second him in his anger. But it was only in Dean's heart, the deception, and the recalling of so many days be worried about CAS. Because that's what romantic love makes you be.

Castiel: I know. I received your messages.

This was like a bomb for Dean...

Dean: Oh, you did – you did receive the messages? Okay, that's good.

Sarcasm...

Castiel: Dean.

Gif credit @starlightcastiel

Dean can't handle the pain in his heart of being rejected and ignored by Castiel, so he searches for his shield again: We/Us/Sam and me.

Dean: So not only were you ditching us, but you were also ignoring us? That's great. 'Cause we really could've used the backup. But, uh, you were too busy with, um (Clicks tongue) What was it? Nothing?

Castiel: Dean, I –

Dean: What the hell is wrong with you, man? You know, whatever. That's (Chuckles) Yeah. Welcome back. (walks away)

Dean is so mad with CAS. And is blatant that his reaction is totally different to Sam's.

The Mixtape as a way to reciprocate Castiel's confession, and the desperate attempt to make CAS to stay by his side.

Okay, we are now in the scene. I'm sure this scene had been dissected by many meta writers. I won't say new things, but i will point a little to their body languages.

Okay, the scene starts with Castiel knocking at Dean's door to give him back the mixtape, so jus aknowledged there that Dean gave CAS a freaking mixtape, which doesn't have another meaning that ROMANTIC. But we can assume Castiel doesn't get this human's customaries, also, we can assume he does, because boop culture that Metatron out at once in his head... So...

After Dean, without looking at him, because he is mad and now he has to handle this angel lack of knowledge about WHAT GIFTING A MIXTAPE MEANS, he said "It's a gift, you keep those."

And Castiel gets nervous.

Gif credit @stardustcas

The swallow and the way he opens his mouth again to breathe and maybe to say something else, but he stopped himself. Castiel is nervous. I thought at first because he has to find the Colt, and he knew Dean kept it in his room. But we know now that it wasn't just that. He was flustered because the intimacy of the situation with the man he loves.

Castiel looks around before attempting to leave, maybe searching for the Colt, but then Dean starts talking:

Dean: Cas, you can't – With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.

And in the middle of the intimate scene, awkward moment, Dean needs his shield more than never.

Castiel: Well, I didn't mean to add to your distress. I – Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again. When you were taken, I searched for months and I couldn't find you. And then Kelly escaped on my watch, and I couldn't find her. And I just wanted I needed to come back here with a win for you. For myself.

This speech is so important, because it shows how depressed Castiel felt, how uneasy. How unworthy. He needed to be useful. So he decided to start alone this dangerous journey that will end in his death. He also mentions the win. Because he didn't know he will be always Dean's win, as we will see in episode 13x06 when CAS comes back to Dean alive.

After they talk about Dragon, and Cas' asks if Sam and Dean are willing to kill an innocent, because that's dirty work, that's the mission CAS had taken in his own shoulders, Dean says this...

Dean: We will find a better way.

Castiel: You mean, we?

Gif set credit @deanwinchestrs

Cas points at Dean with the mixtape, because he wants to clarify if Dean is referring to them, to JUST CAS AND DEAN. YOU AND ME. THE TWO OF US. And Dean is now the flustered one. Look at Dean's face, being in just one spot, recognizing that the shield can be broken, that he is talking about CAS and him. Is too intimate. Too different. So his face is burning. And even so, the words are out. 'Yes, dumbass, we.'

What was this? This was an attempt coming from Castiel to get to know Dean's feelings. Pointing with the mixtape to just Dean and him. Not Sam here. Not shield. And Dean goes for it. Goes for that WE: YOU AND ME.

But then, Dean backtraks

Gif set credit @stardustcas

He starts explaining the WE, avoiding Castiel's gaze, he goes... 'You, me...' and then he tilts his head, and adds the shield back again: 'and Sam.'

The second gif is showing Dean backtracking, Because is too intimate, is too risky, he is standing on the edge between friendship and something else. He can't cross that line. Mostly because he is not sure about Castiel's feelings for him, and more now, after seeing how CAS ignored him for so long. Dean is like:

"What am I doing? Let's mention Sam here, and turn this into no homo conversation."

But the nervousness is all over the scene, i got nervous watching it because the awkward moment!

Gif set credit @stardustcas

More nervousness. Dean's flustered eyes. The swallowing. The attempt of staring into those blue eyes of the man he loves. (The butterflies in the stomach, the heart beating fast, the dry mouth) trying to make the conversation more normal, but their faces are loud.

Vas says he likes that and then Dean is more frustrated than never and his dry mouth is asking for a beer, or maybe he find a way out from the awkward moment, the gay moment. He needs to breathe. He almost let his guard down with this angel. And the desperate way to say STAY WITH ME. DON'T GO AWAY AGAIN. To his angel.

Castiel engages with a seductive look in the middle of the sexual tension

Sam: I mean, how did Cass even get the Colt out of the safe in the first place?

Dean drops his head. Sam raises an eyebrow

Sam Dean, you – you put the Colt back in the safe, right? Dean?

Dean: It was under my pillow. It – I like to keep it close. (Sighs) He came into my room and he played me.

Okay i can even explain the intimacy of this. Even if CAS didn't know about this and he just went searching all over Dean's room. Mention this after the huge scene full of romantic tension, has a meaning. Again: INTIMACY. And adding the "He played me" to all of this is another symbol way to show theme audience this was like that scene between the guy and his crush, in wich his crush takes advantage of it and plays him by stealing something from him. Yes.

Finally, when they find CAS... This scene...

Gif credit @stardustcas

Dean is mad, very mad at him. Because Castiel really played him. But... Look at the scene. Look at Castiel's gaze: PURE SEDUCTION. He maybe is aware of the effect he causes on Dean. And after the mixtape scene, he goes for it. Seduction as if they were in their first seasons together. And Dean is muted, and stares at him, then checks him out, and they're in their own sexual tension world, until Sam calls him. But he has to calls him twice because his brother is too embedded into Castiel's hot behavior.

But don't forget Dean is mad at him. So now, is Dean the one playing around with CAS. Throwing the keys at him and making him almost loose his stability to reach them.

Closing the circle

When Dean and Sam reach Castiel again in the middle of a battle with Dragon, Dean's desperation when Dagon is about to smite Castiel is high level.

But then Jack saves the day, not just showing CAS the future (the ending of season 15) but also, Jack gave him powers to finish Dagon.

Then, the scene in wich Castiel heals Dean is full of intimacy again. The lingerie touch, rubbing fingers. Because Dean is moving his hand slowly away from CAS touch but he ended by letting his hand to feel Castiel's rubbing his fingers. To let Castiel to heal him.

And then, CAS is gone again.

To Conclude:

12x19: The Future has Destiel all over it. Dean mad at him, reaching the level of a JILTED lover. Dean way to protect himself from another rejection using the WE/US/SAM shield. Just because he can't handle it. The doubts about Cas' feelings, and the way the angel always find to go MIA, makes his heart stutter.

The mixtape scene is one of the most emblematic. The nervousness is all over their faces, and Misha and Jensen transmite perfectly the romantic tension between the two characters and goes straight to our hearts, making us feel awkward and flustered too.

Hope you like this meta. See you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 12, here you have the links:

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX, LXXIX, LXXX, LXXXI, LXXXII, LXXXIII, LXXXIV, LXXXV, LXXXVI, LXXXVII, LXXXVIII.

Buenos Aires, November 24th 2020, 9:36 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #season 12 meta #destiel mixtape #destiel is canon

[tcm]

The Whacky, Unforgettable Comedies of Paramount Pictures By Donald Liebenson

In Road to Utopia (‘45), Bob Hope and Bing Crosby are on the road again. “Case those trees, that snow, that scenery and that sky,” Bing exclaims as he and Bob sled across the Yukon. Noting a familiar-looking mountain, Bob adds, “And get a load of that bread and butter.” “That’s a mountain,” Bing corrects him. “May be a mountain to you, but it’s bread and butter to me,” insists Bob, as a semi-circle of stars materializes to arc the peak and recreate the Paramount Pictures logo.

Paramount was bread and butter to a murderer’s row of actors, entertainers and comedy teams who helped establish the studio as being to comedy what MGM was to musicals, Warner Bros. to gangster pictures and Universal to horror films. On January 26, TCM is offering up a mini-Paramount-palooza with three comedies and stars that defined their eras: I’m No Angel (‘33) starring Mae West; Road to Utopia with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope; and The Nutty Professor (‘63) starring Jerry Lewis in his signature Jekyll and Hyde role portraying the milquetoast, accident-prone Professor Kelp and self-described “world’s greatest everything,” Buddy Love.

Paramount comedies, especially of the 1930s and ‘40s, were the smartest, the silliest and the screwiest (and that’s only the s’s). Comedy was a priority for Paramount in the silent era, and once sound came in, the studio was uniquely positioned to sign the biggest comedy stars of Broadway, vaudeville and radio for shorts and features, according to Dr. Joseph Casper, an Alma and Alfred Hitchcock Professor of American Film at the University of Southern California.

“Paramount owned most of the downtown theaters, including the Balaban and Katz chain, which was the largest circuit of first-run theaters,” he noted. “Those theaters featured movies and vaudeville entertainers. Paramount also had an interest in radio, and with its studio based in Astoria, NY, they could also see who was clicking with audiences on the Broadway stages.”

In addition to West, Hope and Crosby and Lewis, here is only a partial list of the comedy icons in Paramount’s stable: W. C. Fields, the Marx Brothers, George Burns and Gracie Allen, Jack Benny, Eddie Cantor, George Jessel, Jack Oakie and Charlie Ruggles (and his frequent costar Mary Boland).

Mae West came to Paramount with a Broadway pedigree and a 10-day jail sentence as the writer and star of the then-scandalous play, Sex. She was only a supporting character in the George Raft vehicle, Night After Night (‘32), her screen debut, but she made an indelible first impression. As Mae saunters into a night club, the coat-check girl greets her with, “Goodness, what diamonds.” Without breaking her stride, West coos, “Goodness had nothing to do with it, dearie.” She stole everything but the cameras, as George Raft said afterward of his costar. Her first starring role in She Done Him Wrong (‘33) established her persona as a “sexual gangster,” as modern-day burlesque queen Dita Von Teese dubbed her in the recent documentary Dirty Blonde (2020). Its box-office success is credited with saving Paramount from bankruptcy. I’m No Angel, the follow-up, was an even bigger box-office hit. 

What makes it Paramount? In pre-Code Hollywood, Paramount did not try to tame or censor the wild, wild West of moviemaking. “When I’m good, I’m very good,” she tells co-star Cary Grant. “When I’m bad, I’m better.” As Tira, a carnival dancer and lion tamer, West is bold and independent. She needs no man to bail her out of trouble. In I’m No Angel, she takes it upon herself to conduct a courtroom cross-examination to unapologetically defend her sullied reputation. No wonder that she, along with the Marx Brothers and W.C. Fields, were rediscovered and embraced by Vietnam War-era college students for whom West, with her subversive attitudes and flouting of authority and convention, was a kindred iconoclastic spirit.

Road to Utopia was the fourth, and arguably funniest, of the seven Road to… films. For the record, I rank them: 

Utopia, Morocco (‘42), Bali (‘52), Rio (‘47), Zanzibar (‘41), Singapore (‘40) and Hong Kong (‘62). Yes, I rank Bali over Rio (I look forward to your comments). Utopia was a franchise-best at the box office.

What makes it Paramount? It’s everything you love in a Road film, plus humorist Robert Benchley wryly kibbitzing from the sidelines. The Oscar-nominated script contains some of the series’ best character-defining gags, such as the indelible moment when Hope, trying to pass himself off as a feared killer, saunters up to a bar, orders a lemonade and then quickly course-corrects, “In a dirty glass.”

Road to Utopia is undistilled silliness with meta jokes (“I thought this was going to be an A picture,” Hope scowls when Crosby enters), fourth-wall breaking (“You mean they missed my song?” Crosby exclaims when informed that some in the audience might have come late to the movie theater) and talking animals (“A fish, they let talk,” a grizzly bear complains. “Me, they won’t give one stinking line.”). The closest Road to Utopia gets to pathos is when Hope and Crosby, about to go their separate ways, seemingly let their guards down and profess their undying friendship to each other… while picking each other’s pockets.

Even Jerry Lewis doubters concede him The Nutty Professor. With his former partner, Dean Martin, Lewis enjoyed a six-year Top 10 run at the box office beginning in 1951 until their acrimonious split in 1956. Paramount signed Lewis to an unprecedented contract in 1959 that earned him a reported $10 million, plus 60 percent of the profits and the film rights, to star in 14 films over a seven-year period. Though not embraced by the critics, Lewis was boffo, especially with kids, and he was in the box office Top 10 between 1957 and 1959 and from 1961 to 1963. And with his clout, he was given the freedom to grow as a director.

What makes it Paramount? More experimental and less flat-out funny than his previous slapstick offerings, The Nutty Professor earned Lewis uncharacteristically good reviews. It is generally considered to be his masterpiece, but that may be because people insist on interpreting Lewis’ portrayal of Buddy Love to be a caricature of his former partner. That may make this film more intriguing from a Freudian standpoint, but Lewis insisted throughout his life that he meant no such thing, and I believe him. Could be Frank Sinatra, though. Or even Lewis himself.

If you ever visit Paramount Pictures, opt for the four-hour studio tour. That gets you into the costume and prop archives, where costumes from The Nutty Professor and Road to Utopia are preserved. They are priceless relics of these first-class comedies whose absurd and anarchic spirit is undimmed, notes Randall Throop, manager of the department. You watch these and other Paramount comedies of the period, such as the surreal Million Dollar Legs (‘32) or the Marx Brothers classics, Throop ponders, “and you have to ask yourself: ‘What were they smoking?’”

#paramount pictures #Mae West #Road to Utopia #Bing Crosby #Jerry Lewis #comedy movies #TCM #turner classic movies #Donald Liebenson #Bob Hope

[according-to-the-laura]

StackedNatural Day 159: 2x18, 13x19

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

April 19, 2022

2x18: Hollywood Babylon

Written by: Ben Edlund

Directed by: Phil Sgriccia

Original air date: April 19, 2007

Plot Synopsis:

Sam and Dean discover that a group of ghosts are attempting to shut down production of a movie that they feel is mocking them.

Features:

The biggest soundstage in the world, Dean’s crush on Matt Damon, an interfering producer, Dean as a PA, summoning a ghost to do your dirty work, an ancient motorola phone camera, the world’s most determined B-List horror movie.

My Thoughts:

This is just a fun little episode where Dean does a silly little job. Also, it’s maybe the happiest we’ll ever see him except for 10 minutes in the middle of Tombstone?

People have been talking on Tumblr for years about how Dean would be fixed if he could just quit hunting to go be competent in a job where he gets to be part of a team, and this is why. He could literally quit hunting and con himself into a very successful career in film production. It’s really fun to see him being such a nerd and so unreservedly enthusiastic, and I love how it’s carried all the way through to Mint Condition in season 14. 

A fun way to be sad is to think about how we just watched a season 10 episode where Dean said he’d never been to the beach. They were IN LA and he wanted to go to a beach and had to work and then he never got another chance to go to a beach. Also, do NOT think about A Complete Kingdom.

I like Tara, it’s rare that a female character in a monster of the week episode isn’t a complete stereotype. They could have made her a classic starlet that was a real bitch but instead she’s just a normal lady doing her job even if she doesn’t like it that much. The polaroids are cute, too. 

The best part about watching this episode is that Dean has already been all over the news for theoretically robbing a bank and he still hooked up with a movie star on set. Icon.  

Notable Lines:

“You know nothing of your cultural heritage, do you?”

“What's a P.A.?” “ I think they're kind of like slaves.”

“You know, I thought you hated being a P.A.” “I don't know. It's not so bad. I kind of feel like part of the team, you know?”

“You know, maybe the spirits are trying to shut down the movie 'cause they think it sucks.”

“You are one hell of a P.A.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 8.6

IMdB Rating: 8.5

13x19: Funeralia

Written by: Steve Yockey

Directed by: Nina Lopez-Corrado

Original air date: April 19, 2018

Plot Synopsis:

Sam and Dean must stop Rowena, who is on a deadly mission. Meanwhile, Castiel looks to heaven to recruit angels for an impending invasion but is shocked by not only what he finds, but who.

Features:

Rowena’s powerful sense of the dramatic, Jessica the baby monitor-Reaper, Reaper assassinations, the machinery of Death, Death’s notebooks, Naomi’s return, Big Pharma as the real monsters, Rowena confronting Death.

My Thoughts:

This isn’t my favourite Yockey episode, but even still it’s got lots of good stuff in it. Tons of Samwena straight-bait, A little sprinkling of Billiewena for spice. Cas being called handsome. 

The A plot and the B plot line up really nicely in this episode with the thematic understanding that we can’t control everything and we can’t win every time. 

I have a theory that Yockey’s Dean is happier than a lot of other writers. Even when he’s drinking (flirting) in the kitchen with Cas and the world is gone to shit, he’s a bit lighter. I like seeing that in his interactions with Cas. 

I really like Rowena the more she shifts to the good guys’ team (which is rare, come to think of it - I usually think it ruins a villain to turn good). The alley scene fucks extremely hard. She gets a lot of space to have her emotions explored and I love the mutual misery between her and Sam when they learn about her fate. 

In terms of fate, this is a nice gentle way to start setting God up as the ultimate villain - they didn’t tear up the script at the end of season 5 like they’ve always been told. Chuck has brought fate back.

I love Yockey making all of the angel death (and genocide) matter, in a way it should have since season 7 but was overlooked. I like Naomi too, so it’s fun to see her back around. All of the Heaven stuff does make me wish that the finale had been about abolishing afterlives and allowing souls to return to the universe. 

Notable Lines:

“Ah, the handsome angel is there, isn’t he? Hello tweety pie.”

“ you stole my memories, and you threatened to "tear me apart," and you made me repeatedly act out Dean Winchester’s murder, and you killed many, many people.” “Those were simpler times.”

“There are a grand total of nine angels in Heaven, present company included,”

“Sometimes life is unfair, and sometimes we lose things. And sometimes we make mistakes. And some of these things can never be fixed, no matter how powerful you become. Some things just are, and everyone has to live with that.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 8.2

IMdB Rating: 8.2

In Conclusion: We are just over a month away from the end of Stacked. The light at the end of the tunnel. 

<< Previous Day  |  Next Day >>

#Stackednatural #supernatural #spn #2x18 #Hollywood Babylon #13x19 #Funeralia

[mego42]

fav lines tag

RULES: share your favorite sentence/paragraph from each one of your fics and tag 6 other fic writers to do it too :)

tagged by the talented brilliant incredible @foxmagpie (💖)

tagging: @pynkhues @hypermania @bethsuglywigs @riosnecktattoo @missmaxime @sothischickshe @joeyjoeylee

some ground rules: I’m only doing brio fic bc at some point when I wasn’t paying attention I wrote a metric fuckton of it and we’re already gonna be here all day bc my other ground rule is I’m allowed to interpret the concept of a line however i want. i’m also gonna tell you why i picked them bc no one can stop me. cool? cool. good talk. 

your monster looks like mine

okay so my first choice for fav would be the entire ~conversation around whether or not beth had a choice when she set rio up bc oooof I just love how that came out so! much! BUT if I’m limiting myself to something closer to a line, I’m going with this one. i love what it establishes for rio’s emotional state when it comes to beth, i love how it captures their push/pull constant one upping battle, I love the rhythm of the flow of it and the grandiose verbiage (i was having a frankly unreasonable amount of fun with natural phenomena imagery throughout the whole fic and this captures a bit of it). idk I just think it’s neat.

The words rip through him, a bright, blazing comet trail whipped across his sky, illuminatin’ his landscape, impossible to ignore.

Elizabeth’s spread out on the bed below him, golden hair tumblin’ around her face, mouth red and swollen, lookin’ up at him like she’s got him. Like she’s figured some shit out. Like she fuckin’ did something by putting that together.

Like Rio doesn’t fuckin’ know. Like that doesn’t fuckin’ haunt him, torment him, mock him every time she pulls some of her bullshit and he’s left picking up the pieces, knowin’ damn well what the right answer is but also knowin’ he’s always gonna be wrong when it comes to her.

--

a song inside the halls of the dark

another one where I’d pick a whole scene if I could BUT if  the whole opening flashback isn’t on the table (idk I love it for 14,000 reasons including how it sets up the bookend structure for the chapter, how it sets up a bunch of the final payoffs, the tone of it, idk everything about it came out exactly how I wanted it to and I really love how it tees up the ending), then I’m going with this bit from the final brio scene. it ties back in a whole bunch of threads that have been woven in and out all the way back to the first chapter and closes them out in a way that also feels (to me) like a beginning which I love bc the whole theme of the chapter is it’s a beginning, not the end.

What does it mean then, that he’s slept so soundly beside her?

The playhouse glows softly. She wonders how many more times she can get away with sanding it before it weakens past the point of supporting the kids’ weight and the whole thing collapses.

Behind it, she can see the long shadow it casts reaching for the boxwoods bordering the yard. The lines of the structure frame windows of bright moonlight on the grass, eerily reminiscent of the windows that loomed large in the nightmares Beth abruptly realizes she hasn’t had in weeks. Not since that last night at Rio’s loft. And that’d been the last one since...his car. Canada. The night all of this started.

Beth blinks. What does it mean that she’s slept so soundly beside him?

A-live, alive, alive, I—

Her breath catches.

—

pills’n’potions

I don’t have any grand reasoning for why I picked this bit from the 4th (i think?) ~ch as my fav, I just really like writing annie and rio interacting and I especially love writing them with annie like, intellectually aware that she should probably be afraid of him but also spiritually incapable of not being herself and rio being wildly annoyed by it

"What?" He asks, giving the t an edge sharp enough to cut.

There's a pause. "What like you didn't hear me, or what like what do I want?"

[...]

"Hello?"

Now the sister sounds like she's getting annoyed, and Rio's really gotta do somethin' about the two of them runnin' 'round actin' like he's someone they can get away with not takin' seriously. Like he's some sort of pet. Defanged. Declawed. Fuckin' neutered.

"Get to the point."

"I mean, I kind of did in the message."

—

trade my heart for honey

the only thing sexier than rio being good at pool is beth being a fucking shark and rio being out of control turned on by it.

Dropping all pretense at being less than she is, Beth grabs the cue ball, positioning it slightly to the left of center where the felt is slightly more worn. Even without the tell, she's seen Rio put it there enough times to know it's the table's sweet spot. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rio shift his weight before she tunes him out entirely, drawing the stick back and letting it fly.

It's as close to a perfect break as she's probably ever managed. The cue ball connects dead on, scattering the rest far and wide. The one and the six drop neatly into pockets, the four and five coming to a stop right on the edge of the left side and far left corner, nearly closing off that whole side of the table.

Every stripe remains in play.

"Solids," she says, not letting herself dwell on the way Rio's mouth hangs slightly open, his eyes glazed over.

—

swaying evergreens

the whole theme of this fic is the terrifying intimacy and vulnerability of sharing your most precious moments and memories with someone you care about and I like how this touches on that along with sort of nutshelling the double edged sword of grief-tinted memory which is another major theme

There's somethin' extra about these unguarded moments. That Elizabeth trusts Rio enough to drop her guard completely and give him this completely unvarnished look at her. It's been over a year since he's been back in her bed, since the first time he'd slept here, but there's still somethin' tentative about it. Like there's a part of him that's never going to be all the way over the first time he'd been here, that can't fully believe how far they've come, that this isn't going to crumble, melt, drain away.

Truthfully, Rio doesn't mind it, that faint edge. He's well acquainted with the different flavors of loss, and the threat of it's a counterpoint that keeps him sharp. Lets him know this is real but not somethin' he'll take for granted.

—

swear on a silver knife

there were a couple of sexy tension bits that made for strong contenders but ultimately this won bc I’m obsessed with how this reference to 306 came out.

“I told you. I got my own debts to pay.” He bit off the words like it cost him something to repeat them.

Beth shivered, abruptly right back at that picnic table, cheeks wet and staring at him, searching for any hint of the man she’d—she’d—anyone besides the cold, unfeeling stranger sitting beside her, blood so fresh on his hands she could nearly smell it underneath the scent of the cold, misty night rain falling around them, blurring her eyes, beading in her hair and on his eyelashes.

—

listening through the air shaft

this was a really hard one to narrow down but I ultimately went with this but bc I love it for a culminating look at how beth and rio’s relationship has evolved throughout the fic and also bc a version of this scene was the first thing I wrote for the whole fic so it was fun to finally get there with everything in place behind it. I also just love it as a reference for the dichotomy of both beth and rio and also how complicated that is makes being around them for everyone else

They aren't even doing anything, just quietly working side by side, but there's a synchronicity to their movements, a quiet peace that makes Dean feel more like an intruder than anything else that's happened today, and he hates it.

It’s so far from the guy that’d broken into his home, beaten him up. Who’d looked at him with those terrifying, blank, shark eyes before casually shooting him in the chest like it was nothing right where they’re about to sit down and share a meal.

A guy, Dean suddenly realizes, he hasn’t seen any hint of in a long, long time. It’s not that he doesn’t think that part of him isn’t there, it’s just...it’s weird, is all, how completely he puts it away.

It reminds Dean of Beth, actually, now that he’s thinking about it.

God. They look so...so domestic. Sweet. Disarming in a way that completely undermines everything Dean thought he'd known about the guy and their whole...thing.  

He just—he doesn't get it, what Beth sees in him.

—

now use both hands

idk I just like this bit let me live

"What are you—what service?"

He makes himself take the route through the showroom that brings him right past her, leaning in and softly brushing a lock of hair out of her face for the first time in longer than he can remember.

Her eyes flutter shut, and he feels absolutely nothing.

"Helping sad, lonely housewives get off once their husbands are done with them."

Her eyes snap open, and he makes himself look at her long enough to watch the hit land and the hurt bloom.

He's empty, untouchable, she's nothing to him.

Rio doesn't look back.

—

I'd give her a HA! And a HI-YA!

you can take my made up backstory for rio and mick from me when you pry it from my cold dead hands.

Mick had been there the first time Rio'd had to get his hands all the way dirty and had kept an eye on him when he'd gotten blackout drunk after, and Rio'd done the same for him. Every bloody, grimy step Rio'd climbed, Mick had been right there with him, watching his back all the way to the top.

The point is Rio's Mick's brother in every way that counts.

Mick'd seen him twisted up over business and twisted up over personal shit, but he's never seen him let both get twisted up like he had since that fuckin' weasel Boomer'd got his ass handed to him and Rio'd gotten curious about it.

—

as the world turns, the blunt burns

I pull this every time I have to pick a fav and I can’t even really explain it aside from I think I’m really, really funny and that’s enough

Beth suddenly sobers as much as she can when she feels like she's simultaneously floating away and sinking into the Earth and wipes her eyes. "Are you gonna get in trouble?"

"You're in the house, ain't you?" He's answering Beth but looking at Rio.

"Mick," Beth frantically tugs at his pant leg because apparently, he doesn't have all of the information. "We're in the yard."

"Yeah, Mick," Rio says, glaring. "You're in the yard."

Mick shrugs, and Beth realizes he isn't scared of Rio at all. That's a neat trick. How does he do that? Maybe he can teach her.

—

smoke, fire, it’s all going up

there are realistically many other better lines in this fic but this one never fails to make me laugh so it remains my fav.

"You- you-" She sputters at him, flailing around a little. "You were the one that started mailing me pieces of a dead body."

"You blocked my number." Rio snarls, which is not what he'd meant to say, and he hates that she trips him up.

"That is not a proportionate response!"

—

got a kiss (with your name on it)

it was this or the text exchange at the beginning of the fic bc I strongly believe established relationship brio would continually roast each other for their past dumbassery but the elizabeth kink won out

"Come here," Rio's voice is thick but insistent in a way that brings every cell of Beth's body to attention. She hooks her thumb over her bottom teeth and drags her lower lip a little, a gesture full of who me mock innocence, waiting for him to say-

"Elizabeth." There it is.

There's an endless amount of things that Beth finds ferociously, irresistibly sexy about Rio, but when he says her full name in that commanding tone? Even if she's pissed the fuck off and has no intention of doing what he wants, it gives her goosebumps.

—

say it’s all in my head (i remember what you said)

I will be real with y’all, I forget I wrote this fic a lot of the time hahahaha but! that means every time I’m reminded I go back and am like oh yeah! I like this! anyway there isn’t like, one specific but I really love most as much as I really like the tentative breathless nervousness and then also overwhelming so muchness and I like how this but captures both of those

For a single, breathless moment, she stands in the middle of the room, alone and terrified.

Then Rio wets his lips and comes towards her, moving with that languid grace she's never been able to look away from even before she had any idea why that could be.

All of the fear collapses like a dying star, sending a supernova of relief and molten heat zinging through her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her head swims, and every cell in her body feels like it's leaning towards him- like she's made of magnets on a molecular level and he's the lodestone.

He gently pushes her bangs off of her forehead, slowly running his fingertip down the side of her face, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He tilts his head towards hers and stops, going no further than halfway, leaving it up to her to close the distance.

She lets her eyes fall shut as she leans into him and tentatively touches her mouth to his for the first time.

—

the world is on fire (and no one can save me) / what a wicked game you played (to make me feel this way)

two for one!!! idk if either of these is my number one favorite line from either fic individually but I really like how they both play together. I like writing beth and rio pov and having them mirror each other’s narration both in thought and structure a lot bc I like thinking of them as two versions of the same

Beth checks her phone, nothing from Rhea, and sends a quick I'm here, text me when you're close, and I'll grab a table before wetting a paper towel and wiping away the last of her smeared mascara. With precise, brisk movements, she snaps open her bag and fishes out her compact, her lipstick, and her mascara; lining them up click, click, click on the tiny shelf below the mirror.

She can live with this; she has to live like this; she will live like this.

She flips open the compact and methodically dabs away the flush and pallor and shadows that are not grief, are not loss, are not anything other than shock and horror that she'd gone so far, that she'd lost control, that she'd killed a man (that man).

and

So what the fuck had he been doin' with Elizabeth fuckin' Boland, giving her chance after chance to cross the line? What the fuck was the point of a line if it might as well not be there at all? All because he liked her big blue eyes and the way she worked a tight sweater? Nah, that ain't him. That can't be him. That's the kind of shit that'll get you killed, and he's got three spent bullets in his pocket and a scar next to his heart if he ever needs the reminder again. 

He shifts in the driver's seat, reaching into his pocket and fishing the bullets out. Lining them up on the dashboard with a definitive click, click, click. He looks past them to the brightly lit valet station. He's been parked in the back of the lot for ten minutes now, waiting for Rhea to give him the go sign. He ain't hiding, doesn't need to, Elizabeth ain't lookin' for him, he just wants to make sure he sees her before she sees him. Get a good look first, so he can size up the situation.

#good lord when did i write so much fic????????? #imagine if i hadn't onlly stuck w/ ch 12 of song #it would've taken me weeks to do this #tag games #my fic #shut up meg #gg related

[inacatastrophicmind]

I just want to hug you and everyone who had SPN as their #1 or only fandom. I jump from one hyperfixation to another all the time and I wasn't that invested in spn anymore, so yes, it spoiled my mood a bit, but I shrugged it off and continued reading The old guard fics. But people who had SPN close to their hearts, who wrote amazing metas, who literally couldn't sleep because of nerves... you were done so dirty. You, and we, and the characters we love, deserved better.

You’re too kind and sweet, anon.

I’m going to ramble for a while because I need to let this out of my chest. I hope you don’t mind.

I loved SPN. This show helped me go through a lot of shit. And I know it was never perfect and it gave me a lot of heartaches and headaches because some writers fucked up things, but I loved the characters and the story. But it also impated my life in so many ways.

Thanks to Dean, I started to hate myself a little bit less. I still have to work through that, but because of Dean, I realized that even though I’m broken, people can still love me despite my scars and my sharp edges. And he helped me to open myself a little bit, letting in people who I love with all my heart, and I’ve been able to speak about some stuff I still have a hard time talking about. And he also made me realize that I should enjoy the things I like without expecting to fit a pattern.

Thanks to Cas, I discovered I was ace and I finally found out that I was in the autistic spectrum and that there was nothing wrong with that. He also helped me feel accepted and not to be so ashamed about feeling so out of place in every situation. Cas has helped me to be kinder to others and to try to do what feels right in my heart. Cas has made me realize that this world might be terrible sometimes, but there is still so much good in it.

Thanks to Dean and Cas and their relationship, I have been able to make gifs and write fics. I’m someone who alway sees the worst in everything I do, but gifmaking is something I’m really proud of. I still think I need to improve, but when it comes to my gifs, I look at them and I think “well, at least I’m quite decent at this”, and that’s something that’s never happened to me. I’m someone who keeps thinking that I’m not good enough. But not when it comes to gifs. And also it has made me enjoy writing again, even if I’m not the best, but it’s something that I can do and say “I’m not great at this, but this makes me happy and that’s enough.”

Thanks to Dean and Cas, I have also spend so many good times reading about them falling in love in so many ways. I have seen beautiful creations in the shape of fanart, gifs and edits. And I have fallen in love with them (ironic becuase I’m aro, but that’s the power of Destiel), and I have always looked forward to seeing them together just for 5 seconds. They have kept me going in my darkest times and I have loved them with everything I have.

Overall, SPN has gotten me through some really tough times. I’m not going to get into details, but there have been moments in my life when I wanted to give up, and the only thing that made me get out of bed, was this show. Just knowing there was more story to tell, that I could see my favorite characters one more time, was enough. SPN was my shelter when real life hurt me.

Before I started watching this show, I felt out of place, broken and lonely. But thanks to it, I started to slowly put myself together. Just because of a story and its amazing characters. Things in my life are far from perfect, but SPN made things hurt less. It also let me meet amazing people on the internet and it let me meet one of my best friends in real life, who I love with all my heart. She hasn’t watched SPN since s10, but we’re still best friends.

This show helped me to live instead of just exist. It helped me to create stuff, to feel passion and love, to feel accepted, to be less ashamed of who I am, to stop consider myself so broken. I saw these characters going through so much and never give up that they inspired me. And they found a way into my heart. And they made me believe that when things go really bad, if you can get up and fight, you’ll be able to find some happiness in a world where it is so easy to find pain.

But now, the writers have destroyed all of that. All that shit the characters went through was for nothing. They deserved to live and be happy, and instead, they just fucking killed them, forgot them and/or make them miserable. 15x20′s story is “life sucks and then you die.”

How is it possible that a show that focused so hard on a found family, on accepting yourself, on telling the world “fuck fate I write my own history” and I will keep fighting to be able to live my life in my own terms, has destroyed everything the story and its characters stood for?

I’m hearbroken and angry, because they destroyed something I loved with all my heart and they treated Dean, Cas and Sam like shit. In the end, the writers not only did not care about the characters; they didn’t care about us. I knew that the ending wasn’t going to be satisfying, but this ending is a direct “fuck you” to everything SPN was and to its characters. This ending basically said that “why bother fighting and living, when dying and going to Heaven is the solution to your problems?”

We deserved better. Dean, Cas and Sam deserved so much better.

#Anonymous #my answers