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#dean and sam supernatural
moonlight-rider25 · 11 months
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Winchester Girl. Chapter 1
Warnings: Rated PG13, swearing, smoking, fluff, angst
Present day, Massachusetts 11:49pm.
…"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes."
You take a deep breath and swing the door open for the two towering men to slip in between. Latching it behind you, you exhale heavily and slowly turn towards them, they both stand with a solemn look on their face as they stare back at you.
"Glad to see your two smiling faces…" You say sarcastically as you cross your arms over your chest.
"...So what's the occasion, boys?"
Sam wipes his hand over his mouth and begins to stir anxiously before you. Dean keeps his eyes set on you, hands deep in his pocket with his usual stoic face resting in place.  You roll your eyes and turn towards the doorway of the small kitchen; adjacent to the living room. 
It wasn't much and it sure wasn’t fancy, but it was yours and you were proud of it. Left to you by your gran, you couldn't complain of the slightly run down two bedroom home you had once grown up in with your mom and sister. Strutting over to the fridge, you swing the door open and closed with a smack. Returning only a moment later with two beers in hand. You cautiously extend them out towards the boys and they take them without a word while you seat yourself down against the fake leather sofa. They pop the covers off, resting them on the China cabinet nearby, and take long sips; still refusing to utter a word. You peer towards the TV and grasp your vodka soda, from the side table. You take a long sip from the cracked, repurposed KFC straw facing away from them.
"..Gonna make me drink alone?" You ask coyly, still looking towards the small flat screen.
Finally you hear their footsteps approach from the back of the sofa and watch Sam ease into the old, tan, oversize recliner, somehow still making it seem small.  Leaving Dean to perch uneasily at the opposite end of the sofa by your feet.
You sip from the straw without meeting their precarious looks and clear your throat. 
"Look I got a 9 to 5 to get to in the morning, and PTA after school, can we please skip the guessing games, and get to the point?" 
Sam rubs his brow as Dean stares blankly down towards the coffee table and they stir anxiously. 
"We didn't mean to intrude, Y/N, we just need a little help on this one.." Sam finally utters apologetically.
"No shit, I assumed that much. Why else would you two lumberjacks show up unannounced at my door?" 
You state coldly reaching down towards the coffee table for your pack of L&M reds. You pluck one from the pack and toss it back on the table. You place the slim white cigarette between your lips and feel around your pants pockets for your lighter. Fishing down into the crease of the couch, only coming up with stale goldfish and matchbox cars; you sit up and reach further into the gritty couch crevice.  Finally hitting a familiar feeling with your fingertips, you peer up to spy Dean's hand extended with his shiny metal zippo lighter ready, inches from your cigarette. You reach over and puff eagerly, lighting it on the flame and peer up into his glimmer green eyes for a brief second before sitting back against the couch crossing your legs again and exhaling slowly.
"When are you gonna quit those, Y/N?..." Dean asks, snapping the lighter closed and dropping it back in his jacket pocket. 
"Oh, save it.." You say after taking another long inhale.  "...100% of non-smokers die too… especially in this line of work." 
Dean stares daggers at you as you flick the end of the cigarette into the ashtray. You boldly meet his look again, bringing the butt of the cigarette to your lips and sucking at it again.
"Vamp nest." He says coldly in his deep intimidating voice. "A big one…" He says craning his head over to eye Sammy. 
"They, uhh, apparently have been targeting young women…" Sam adds, once meeting Dean's look.
He swallows and brushes the stray hairs from his face as he stutters to get the words out.
"Where?" You ask, exhaling a vast white cloud of smoke from your mouth directly towards; Dean who grimaces.
"About a day's drive from here.." Sam answers with a nod.
You flick the ash into the ashtray beside you again and turn back towards the TV.
"..Think it can wait till tomorrow morning?" You ask with another puff thick in your throat.
It was Thursday night, you were mom free Friday after 8am to Sunday at 5pm. Sam and Dean both know and most of the time, respectfully understand this; after all, it was obviously the biggest reason you weren't as active in hunting, as you wanted to be. 
Sam remains silent, nodding in his seat after taking a long sip of his Bud Weiser.  Dean looks back towards you, and you slowly meet his eye, taking a sip from your straw.
"It'll have to be, won't it?" He says with a devilish look in his eyes.
You crack a sarcastic smile through the straw in your mouth and roll your eyes as you turn back towards the TV. 
You finish your butt and stub it out, leaning forward on the couch before getting up and making your way towards the linen closet to grab sheets, pillows, and blankets for them. You hear them mumble low in their thick deep voices, not as quietly as they probably imagine; and make sure to slam the closet door shut, signaling your return. Your arms full of bedding for them, you see Dean relaxed against the back of the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. His arm outstretched against the top of the plush sofa where you had just been. They both turn towards you with curious looks on their faces.
"So, one in the recliner, one on the pullout…" you say slowly, rounding the couch. "...That or you can share the pullout…" you add through a smile, placing the bundle of blankets on the couch.
They both crack a smile and you look around trying to make sure everything is in order for them.
Dean eyes you again with a daring look; “...Sammy can’t bunk with you?” He says with a snicker.
You glare towards him with a warning look.
"Feel free to use the shower…help yourself to snacks.." You gesture towards the kitchen.
"You uhh… you got any of those little foil wrapped things? …come in a two pack?" Dean asks with a smirk.
You exhale a quiet sigh, biting back a smirk, and watch as Sam tries to hide his own smile creeping across his face.
"Pop Tarts?" You ask through a snicker.
Dean's face lightens up as he allows his smile to grow across his lips.
"Yeah! Those little devils are delicious!" He tells you, straightening up against the couch a bit.
You allow the laugh to linger in the air as you stride towards the kitchen. You reach up into the cabinet and grab the two boxes perched on the faded painted shelf; brown sugar for Sam and Chery for Dean. You swing the cabinet shut and walk back out into the living room, kicking a few action figures to the side in the process. You hold up the two foil covered packages and they both beam a smile in your direction. You toss them their pop tarts, hearing them eagerly tear into their packages as you head for the bolt lock on the front door. You fasten it and dip back into the kitchen against the doorway swatting at the light switch on the wall. You hear Dean's eager hum as he indulges into the breakfast snacks; while reaching for the metal cord on the lamp beside the couch. You grab the remote from the coffee table and toss it in Sam's lap, who's also enjoying the child's snack. 
"Don't stay up too late," you tell them, brushing your fingers through Sam's thick head of hair as you trek back towards the hall to your room. "Finns an…"
"..An early riser, I know… we know!" Dean remarks through his mouthful.
“...God, you need a haircut..” You joke towards Sam.
He chuckles a bit and you trail away from the two down the hall.
You walk past your doorway and stand quietly for a moment watching Finley sleep soundly, with the gentle blue hue of his dinosaur nightling on his bed stand. You pace back towards your room and quietly shut your door behind you before slipping into an old oversized tee shirt, and drop your bottoms to the floor. You plug your phone in, and place it on your nightstand before rotating the little knob on your lamp; the room growing dark. The hushed murmur from the TV in the living room, fills the air as you roll over in bed and sigh a deep exhale of relief. 
As much as you hate to admit it, there is a huge sense of relief knowing the two Winchester brothers sit out in your living room tonight.  Not a goddamn thing to fear; burglar, ax murderer, or the creatures that haunt most people's nightmares; would be getting very far into your house tonight. You recall a time where you spent every night with that kind of reassurance… but it had been years since then.  Regardless of how many nights alone you spent in your bed reminding yourself not to worry of things that may go bump in the night…your past had a funny way of always showing back up at your worn out New England door. Little did those tall handsome Winchester boys know that a little part of you each night was always hoping they would... 
~~~~~
The sun peeks through the faded shades as you hear the little peppering footsteps tear down the wooden hallway. You roll over in your bed peering at the alarm clock 5:12 am glows back at you. You sigh, turning back over and groaning against your pillow.
“Oh nice, he let me sleep in 12 minutes today..”
You pull the blankets up over your head and sigh again trying to shake the sleep from your head…then your heart drops into your stomach 
"Ahhhh!" 
The blood curdling scream that haunts your nightmares. You burst from your bed and rush towards the living room, completely forgetting your attire and the fact that the two Winchester boys are…were still sleeping in the living room. 
"Uncle Dean!" Finn yells, sprinting across the living room floor. 
"Finn! No!" You shout rushing towards him, but it's too late; he lands feet first in the middle of the pull out, where Dean's limp half covered body lays. Dean jumps, as Finn's body lands in the middle of him.
He grunts and coughs rolling over and sitting up, eyeing you who stands in nothing more than your old tee shirt, barely covering your butt.
"...Sorry!" You say lifting Finn off of the impressively gorgeous looking man and placing him on the floor beside you.
Sam, hearing the commotion stirs awake from his rest and tosses the blankets from his huge torso sitting up in the beaten up recliner. His bare chest and giant shoulders, glistening as he reaches over for Finn.
"Heeey, buddy!" Sam says through his sleep ridden voice.
Finn scampers over and crawls up into Sam's lap, perching himself on the large flat arm of the old tan chair. 
"Oh, jeeze, watch your feet bud…" Sam says adjusting the blankets over his lap.
You curl your lips up into a tightly pinched smirk and cover your mouth realizing how exposed you are standing with your back to Dean.
"What are you guys doing here?" Finn asks in his innocent little voice.
"Uhhhg.. were, we uhhh…" Sam stutters looking from yours and Dean's face for an answer.
Dean rolls over in his spot sitting up and batting his eyes, still not sure as to what the hell is going on around him.
"Uncle Sam and Dean are just in town on business, so they stopped by to say hello!" You lie coyly through your best mom face.
Finns face peers up at you with a slight scowl. 
"Why can't they ever visit when I'm not in school?" He asks with a frown.
"Uncle Sam and Dean's work is everyday, buddy.” You try to console the sad little face peering up at you. “They don’t get weekends and vacations like you do..." You add, turning on your feet to head towards the kitchen. You grab a pillow from Dean's bed and playfully smack him with it as you walk by. 
"Why don't you go get dressed and let Uncle Sam and Dean clean up the living room. You call over your shoulder heading towards the kitchen.
You turn the faucet on, and dump the coffee grounds from the day before.  You hear Finn's footsteps putter back up the hall and hear the groans of the men stirring. 
"You guys got about 90 seconds to make yourself decent before he's back out here…" you call from the kitchen. 
The water trickles into the dingy coffee maker and you grab the hand towel nearby, eyeing the many empty beer bottles placed on the counter..
"..We're decent.." You hear Dean argue in a slurred groan. 
"Mmmm… I'm sure.." You mumble to yourself through a smile, tossing handfuls of empties into the recycling.
They clink against each other and you hang the hand towel back up on the slim metal rack before shutting the cabinet door.
"...More decent that you are…’mommy’…" a deep growl of a voice echoes from behind you.
Spinning around, you see Dean standing in the kitchen doorway in his jeans and Grey t shirt; his hair messed a bit from sleeping. You scowl at him backing up against the kitchen sink and flash him a sarcastic smirk. 
"Sorry, I was too busy saving your.. ‘pitched tents’ from major injury…" you tell him, biting back a cackle. "...my bad!" You snicker.  
He looks you up and down leaning against the wooden doorway with a thick smirk on his face. Crossing his arms, he allows his eyes to linger up and down your long legs. You spin around choking on your laughter a bit and reach up on your toes towards the cabinets quickly realizing your oversized tee... is not over sized enough. You lower yourself back down, inching carefully towards him before standing directly between him and the small space between him and the door frame.
"...Cups are up there.." You tell him, reaching up and ruffling his bed head. “..Help yourself.." 
You mutter quickly walking behind the back of the couch by Sam who's buttoning up his flannel.
You hear Dean mutter something under his breath, as you pass by Finn in the hall who's proudly wearing a superman cape over his ninja turtle housecoat.
"Is she wearing pants?!" Sam asks surprised.
"Nah..nope.." Dean answers before he's greeted by Finn's wonderful outfit choice.
You pop a pair of loose Nike shorts on and fly back out past the couch again. Dean still propped up against the doorway of the kitchen.
"You make a better door than a window.." you tell him, slipping again between him and the wooden frame. 
He snickers but says nothing else as you reach into the freezer and pluck a couple frozen Waffles from the box. You plug the toaster in and drop them down into the metal slats before pressing down the handle.  Out in the living room you hear the giant plastic tote of action figures; crash onto the floor.
"Finn!" You sigh heavily, reaching up in the cabinets for three mugs. "You need to make sure to clean all those up before school today, hear me?" 
You grab the still dripping coffee pot and pour the mugs full. A small 'mmmhmm' coming from the living room as you wipe up the coffee splatter.  You hand Dean his brimming cup of black coffee and grab the cream from the fridge adding a dash to yours and Sam's mug. 
"Uhg, thanks..Y/N…you didn’t have to do..." Sam says with a slight smile as you hand him his mug.
You sip eagerly from your own cup and swipe your pack of cigs off the coffee table from last night, shooting him a knowing look.  He smiles and nods as you pop a cigarette between your lips and peer around the living room for the remote you tossed in Sam's lap. He nods with a grunt through his mouthful of coffee and reaches beside the recliner, handing the small black TV control to you.  
"Thanks!" 
You aim it at the small screen and flash on Finns current favorite Netflix show. You swipe the butt out of your mouth and step over towards Finn who's all too busy with ‘Thor’ at the moment. 
"Keep it down, babe. It’s still early for Uncle Sam and Dean, okay?" You tell him, pressing a kiss on the top of his golden brown hair. 
He nods and begins clashing the plastic action figure into an unwilling opponent and you pop the butt back in your mouth. You realize once again your without a lighter;
"Fuck!" You blurt out.
"That's a bad word, mommy." Finn tells you plainly.
"Yes, it is baby, I'm sorry.." You rush back towards the kitchen where Dean has moved enough out of the way of the door and light the propane stove. It ticks a few times before igniting and you crane your head down towards the flame inhaling to light your cigarette on the hot blue wave.
"Yeah…that seems safe.." Dean sarcastically remarks watching you. 
He takes a long sip of coffee and you remember the Waffles in the toaster. As if on instinct; they pop up and you grab a plastic superhero plate from the clean dish rack and plop the Waffles onto the plate. Along with a cup of apple juice and the smallest fork you can find in the utensil drawer; you place them at the table and call over to Finn for breakfast. 
Finley darts through the kitchen with Iron man and Thor battling midair.  He scoots sideways into his seat, making sure to prop them up and watch him as he eats. 
You turn towards the counter, cigarette in hand gulping back the rest of your coffee and pour another cup.
 "Mommy!" 
"Right, syrup…" 
You turn back towards the fridge and grasp onto the sticky bottle of 'real Vermont syrup' clanking it onto the table next to Finn. 
"Not too much!" You remind him as you strut back out of the kitchen. 
Dean takes a seat at the kitchen table with Finn and you hear a muffled; "Whoa buddy, that's enough..don't ya think?"
Sam folds the bedding up and meets your eye. 
"Oh, don't worry about that!" You tell him, taking a long puff. "I gotta throw it in the wash first." 
You hold the cigarette between your teeth and reach out over Dean's pull out filling your arms with the mismatched linens. Sam hesitantly hands you the 'neatly folded' sheet and you smile through your cigarette. 
"You guys hungry?" You ask as you exhale making your way up towards the hall, throwing the pile of laundry in your arms onto the floor in front of the washing machine.
"Uhhh, no were…were fine, thanks Y/N.." Sam says shyly.
"I got more poptarts." You say walking back out to the living room. 
Sam chuckles a bit, shaking his head; you both turn towards the kitchen hearing Dean's chair screech against the floor as he hears you mention 'pop tarts'. 
"Well…I'm fine.." Sam adds with a chuckle. 
You take a final long puff from your L&M and snuff it out in the ashtray. 
"Sorry Sam, I'd make you an omelet or something if I had the time.." You tell him apologetically.
You stop for a moment, crossing your arms and stare up at the tall man before you; taking in all the little details you remember…
His brown hair framing his face, his eyebrows flustered up when he talks, his little thin lips puckered as he listens to you speak, and the faint stubble trying desperately to grow in around his mouth and chin.  He's got a few more pronounced wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, but other than that all you can see is the man you once fell in love with.  
Sam's eyes dart back and forth as his smile falls away from his face then reappears again.
"It's fine, seriously Y/N..were fine."
He tries to meet your eye, showing his sincerity.
"Fine, and dandy!" Dean mutters loudly through a mouthful of pop tarts from the kitchen.
Both you and Sam laugh a bit hearing Dean in the other room. Sam clears his throat a bit and sets his mug down on the coffee table and exhales with a slight rock in his step before meeting your eyes again.
“Well you look, uh, good.. Been taking care of yourself?” he asks hesitantly, stuffing his hands down into his jeans pockets. 
You pause a moment, craning your head to the side a bit as you watch him shift uncomfortably.
“...Trying to..” You tell him with a playful scoff. 
He smiles and meets your eyes again for a moment, before shifting away quickly.  You sigh and turn your face down to the floor, spying his hands anxiously fidgeting within his pockets. You look back up holding your gaze on him for a moment.
“You don’t gotta be nervous Sam…” you tell him, shaking your head a bit. “...It's just me…”
He scoffs with a quick smirk, plucking his hands out from his pockets and planting them firmly at his waist.  Finally he sighs and meets your look, without darting in different directions. 
“You look good too, Sam. I’m glad to see it..” You add still watching him from your spot.
You sigh and shake your head a bit glancing at the clock on the wall beside the door.
"Shit!” You gasp frantically, “I gotta hop in the shower!" 
"Bad word mommy!" Finn reminds you from the kitchen.
"You're right, I'm sorry baby!" You call trailing back down the hallway.
“Help yourselves to whatever!” You call out down the hall, spinning the dial of the shower on.
~~~~
Some time later you dash back out towards the living room, your hair flung up in a towel. You pick up Finn's sticky Waffles plate and drop it into the sink before grabbing a third cup of coffee. …Or you would have, but you spy the empty pot instead.
You dump the dripping coffee grounds into the trash, and start a new pot before dashing back out to the living room for your pack of cigarettes. Finn sits on the floor in front of Dean and Sam who are both fully dressed now and sipping their coffee.
"Sorry…" Dean calls from behind his mug. "...didn't mean to finish it on you." 
"It's fine, I'm making a new pot.." You say reaching down between the couch cushions for your lost lighter.
Dean takes a long dramatic sip with a long smack at the end and Sam chuckles in his seat, clearly amused with the cartoons playing on the TV.
"Oh here.." Dean says, patting himself up searching for something in his jacket.
He extends his hand out, with his treasured vintage zippo extended towards you.
"Oh…thanks, but.." You stand before him with your finally recovered; plastic pink lighter in hand. 
You light your cigarette and pull down the towel from your head marching back off towards your bedroom. 
"Finn, try and use the bathroom before we go, please!" You shout from your room. “And change…you cant wear pjs to school!”
You slick some mascara on your lashes and dollop your armpits in some cheap ladies antiperspirant. You smear on some chapstick and brush through your hair just in time for Finn to appear at your doorway; eager and ready for the day as usual. You crouch down a bit, and plant a big sloppy kiss on his cheek before ruffling his hair into place.  
"Alright, you ready!?" You ask gleefully.
Back out towards the living room yet again you snatch Finn's lunchbox and stuff a snack pack, some knock off veggie chips, an apple, and a tiny water bottle into the black and yellow batman lunch box. 
Sam and Dean stand, looking towards you as you throw your purse over your shoulder and step into your flip flops. You help Finn with his backpack and turn back to face the two men.
"I'll be back in like 30..." You say, remembering to grab your pack of cigarettes and lighter off the coffee table.
"Y/N…do you…is there anything we can do?..." 
"No you're fine, I'll be right back!" You tell them frantically, peering down at your phone.
Sam elbows Dean, who tries to hold back the scoff, turning towards you.
"..I can take the kid.." Dean says as he clears his throat.
"...In ‘baby’!?" You ask with a snicker.
They peer out the window, then back towards each other. 
"..No, we'll be fine, don't worry about it." You tell them again.
They both sigh and you turn towards the door ushering Finn out.
"Y/N, we can help, just tell us what to do.." Sam says calmly in his reassuring tone.
The door is only ajar when you stop; sighing a deep breath before closing your eyes for a quick moment. 
"Okay, fine.. go do the…dishes or something.." You reply before shutting the door behind you.
"Dude, I don't remember her being this…this.." 
"Give her a break, Dean." Sam says with a long exhale. "She's a mom, now, and, …she's doing the best she can.."
~~~~
You bite your lip sitting at the red traffic light watching the clock tick onward in the dash. 
"Come on…Friday…you can do this.." You mumble under your breath through a deep sigh.
You dig your nails into the back of the pleather steering wheel as you sit agitated in your seat.
"Mom?" Finn asks from the back seat.
"Yeah, bud?" You reply, peering towards him in the rear view.
"...where's my homework folder?"
You roll your eyes as another deep breath courses through you.
"..probably on the kitchen floor where you left it…" You reply regrettably. 
The light finally blinks green and you roll out through the intersection. The crossing guard waves you on into the line up beside the school, and you park the car before jumping out and opening the back door for Finn. 
"It's alright, it's Friday we'll get your homework to Mrs. Barnes Monday morning, okay?" 
Finn hops out with a frown on his face. You straighten his hair once again and help him loop his arms through the straps of his backpack. You kneel down eye level to him and peer up into his bright little blue eyes.
"It's Friday!" You cheer quietly to him. 
He casts you a small, meek smile.
“Mom, can I stay with you this weekend?” Finn asks with a slight heartbreaking frown.
“No, babe, it's daddy's weekend, you know that..” You tell him apologetically.
“Just tonight then?” he pleads. “Just to say bye to Uncle Sam and Dean?”
You sigh, unable to give him an answer you or he wants to hear.
“Please?” 
You bite back your bottom lip peering up into his sad little blue eyes.
“...We’ll see them again. We always do..” you huff in a regrettable tone.
“It’s not fair!” Finn protests angrily. “Why does dad have to ruin everything!?” 
“Hey, come on…it’s not his fault…”
You stand back up pecking a kiss on top of his head and usher him down the sidewalk towards the front of the school.  
"I'll see you Sunday!" You call cheerfully, as he angrily strides towards the front door.
You stand with your arms crossed watching, making sure he disappears between the two giant blue doors before you allow your gaze to drop.
You sigh as you regrettably sulk back towards the car, recalling what you told him; ‘we’ll see them again..’  hopefully…  
You shake the thought from your head. The sun is already beating down at full force under the bright blue skies as you pluck the doors handle and seat yourself against the driver's seat.  You turn the key and flip the AC on; its cool air blasts against your face as you shift the car into reverse.  You back out and head towards the wretched red light that never allows you a free pass. You stare off into the opposite direction of traffic and wait patiently; when your phone rings. You fish around in the passenger side seat for the vibrating brick and click the green answer button.
"Hello?..."
Tags: @nancymcl @123passwort LMK, if youd also like to be tagged in these!
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molt3ngold · 2 months
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unhinged-jackles · 3 months
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seasononesam · 1 month
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#logging into tumblr today
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thesunoficarus1 · 13 days
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season one of supernatual is so funny to me. sam and dean will literally show up to the crime scene in some fuck ass flannels and dean is in his leather jacket and the cops are like "who the hell are you?" and dean will be like "oh, us? well we are obviously from the us fish and wildlife service who else could we possibly be???" 
meanwhile theyre in the craziest outfits known to mankind with no badge or anything, so the cops will ask for their IDs and they'll hand them the most unconvincing fake id you'll ever see. the thing will be crumpled to no return and look like it was all hand written by a toddler and SOMEHOW THE COPS STILL BELIEVE THEM??
and then, they'll start questioning the victims family like "aw man :( I'm so sad for you :( that must be really hard :( so like what happened? and on a completely separate note, did you see anything? feel a temp drop? did you feel a cold spot? did you see something weird? like a creature mayhaps? like a ghost? did you see a ghost? do you believe in ghosts? please tell me it's a ghost?" like that's a totally normal line of questioning for a random drowning from two members of the us fish and wildlife service.
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red-hood-vigilante · 1 month
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s1 is just. i love you grainy unfocused shots of cemeteries and foggy roads no one travels. i love you john’s journal as a bible. i love you sam driving the impala casually with dean sleeping in the passenger seat. i love you dark motels with neon signs and dusty libraries with huge lore books. i love you side character serving as a mirror to the winchesters. i love you cleaning guns and wounds and sharpening of knives and gas stations and flip phones and laptop stickers. i love you small towns where time stands still with something unknowable and hungry lurking in the shadows. i love you angry psychic kid sam and dean trying his best with a leather jacket too big for him. i love you looming presences of john and mary. i love you homemade and flawed equipment. i love you horror and tragedy and blood. i love you dramatic lighting and silhouettes. i love you folklore and local legends. i love you -
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uh-ohspaghettio · 8 days
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In light of recent Misha and Bedlund madness comments
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“And no, Jensen, not in key.”
This script (and many others!) are official scripts from Eric Kripke himself, and are going to be part of a fundraiser for Undue Medical Debt (formerly known as RIP Medical Debt). They buy medical debt for pennies, and then forgive it! The fundraiser starts April 25th! That’s right, this script could be yours! Click HERE for more info!
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lemontartyellow · 2 months
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The thing is, Sam is a freak, Dean has every diagnosable issue ever, and Cas is a war criminal. Hopes this helps someone.
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captainchilly · 2 months
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"So, the toxicology report came back on Lance." ↳ 8.11 - LARP AND THE REAL GIRL
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moonlight-rider25 · 11 months
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Winchester Girl Chapter 2
Warnings: PG13, swearing, smoking, mentions of bad relationships, fluff, angst
Present day, Massachusetts 7:47am
You swing into the driveway and slam your door shut probably more aggressively that your bank account can afford. You swing open your front door and spy Dean and Sam standing ready with concerned looks on their faces. You slam the door behind you and throw your purse onto the chair beside the door before plucking a cigarette from your pack and lighting it quickly. 
"Well fuck!  Sorry guys!" You say through a long exhale; white smoke dancing around your head. 
The brothers remain silent as you puff agitatedly at the end of your cigarette; seemingly passing concerned and unknowing looks to each other. You sulk across the room, plopping yourself harshly down into the brown sofa before pulling your phone out.  You peer at its little illuminated screen and take a long drag of the cigarette before speaking.
“You’re on your own, I can’t come..” You say with a long puff of smoke.
"Wait, what?" Dean asks, in a harsh tone.
You lock your phone screen and toss it beside you, taking another long puff from your butt. 
"You're gonna have to find someone else to be your bait this time.." You say disappointedly.
Sam glides over and sits next to you on the couch trying his best to comfort you, but as always, comforting was not comforting to you in any situation. Dean, angrily stomps in place huffing, as you take another rip from your butt.
“Why the hell not?!” Dean asks all but kindly.
"Finn's dad called… he can't take him this weekend.." You say through another puff.
You allow a long silent pause as you take a few more drags from your cigarette and snuff it out in the ashtray.  Sam sits with a sorrowful look towards you while Dean stands with his hands firmly on his hips, glaring in your direction. 
"I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to let you down.. again.."
"Y/N, you never let us down…" Sam tries to comfort you. Though you know lying has never been his strong suit…
You sit back against the couch and sigh, knowing if they hadn’t stopped last night they’d probably already found a new willing huntress along the way, and gotten to the vamps nest by now. You uneasily chew at your bottom lip and eye Dean as he strides over towards the oversized recliner and takes a seat.  He lets out a deep sigh and palms his face, running his fingers through his hair.
“Fucking asshole can buy a half a million dollar house for his skank ass fiance, a palm beach wedding, and fucking boulder sized rock for her hand, but can’t be bothered to see his own son every other weekend…” You huff angrily through your teeth. 
“Yeah, you sure know how to pick um, Y/N..” Dean replies with a scoff.
“...Hey!” Sam cuts Dean off, in efforts to defend you…or himself, you’re not completely sure.
He didn’t need to be offended, Sam hadn’t really been ‘picked’, per se, more like fate chose him for you, …after he saved your ass from being just another meal…
“Sorry guys, you’re gonna have to find someone else willing to be bait…” You tell them apologetically.  "But, at least I can make you breakfast now." 
Your small effort in trying to lighten the mood is pretty unhelpful, but you stand and pace towards the kitchen to begin cooking anyway.
"Y/N, we don't really have time for that.. But thank you." Sam says trailing after you in a few giant steps.
You breathe another angry sigh and brace your hands against the counter.  You turn and face the two men blocking everything between you and the living room, with your arms crossed.
"We can get a babysitter…or maybe your mom can watch…" Sam mentions.
Dean meets Sam's eye and he quickly stops anymore mention of your mom.
"I can't afford a babysitter all weekend, Sam." You reply wiping at your forehead.
Dean steps forward a bit taking a seat at the table where he was with Finn earlier. 
"Well the kids like, what… 10…12.. can't he stay for the weekend by himself?" Dean asks utterly and completely unknowingly.
You and Sam make eye contact, doing little to hold back the judgment on your face.
"Six Dean! He's six… so, no!"
Sam snickers a little and Dean shoots him a glare.
"Okay…then let's bring him along!" Dean mentions looking back to you.
"Absolutely not!" You and Sam both cry out at the same time.
Dean's eyes grow wide and he dramatically raises his hands up from the table.
"Alright, mom and dad,...well while you two figure out what to do with junior here,... I'm gonna make a few calls…" 
Dean stands and walks back towards the living room and you hear the front door creak open then shut again. 
You turn back around towards the sink and after a long moment of thinking, notice the dishes drying in the rack beside you. You eye them a bit as you run the water.
"Oh, thanks Sam. …You didn't actually have to do the dishes..." You say softly.
Sam strides slowly towards you and you turn around quickly before he has the chance to put his huge hands around your waist… a favorite move of his he always seemed to do years ago…
"I'm… sorry Sam. Really." You say coldly and abruptly as you look up towards him.
He stops in his tracks, his hands dropping to his sides before he sighs through a slight smirk.
"It's not your fault, Y/N. You're a mom first, I know…" 
You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Sam scoffs and darts his eyes back and forth from you.
"I mean.. Not just a mom… more of a...hot mom?..." he adds with a slight smirk.
You allow a giggle to escape you and Sam allows his smile to unfold openly across his face.
“I’m serious though..” he adds. 
His smile slowly fades as he meets your eyes.
“You’re a really good mom, Finns a good kid.  And he's really, really lucky to have you..” 
You hang your head and smile, before waltzing away from him, searching for your pack of cigarettes again. 
The front door creaks open again and Dean's huge shoulders bob through the wooden doorway. 
"Well good news and bad news.." He states in his deep tone as he latches the door behind him.
You flick your plastic pink lighter and inhale again.
"..I don't have to call out of work?" You ask through a clouded exhale..
"God, would you stop, with the smoking?! Dean states, using his hand to direct your cigarette smoke elsewhere. 
Dean strides over to take a seat on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. 
"Every other chick…lady… ma’am, within a driving distance of here is MIA…so we're back to square one…” he says with a huff.  “...Unless…”
Dean smiles; devilishly eyeing Sam over his shoulder. You tip your head towards Sam with an exhale as Sam stares blankly back between you and Dean, hands buried in his pockets as the realization slowly builds up in him.
"Sammy! Break out the little green army men, and comic books; you're babysitting!"
~~~~
With only a few moments of shout-arguing, as to why Sammy was the one to be assigned babysitter; you trying your best to defuse the situation in almost any means possible, then finally Sam and yourself tired of arguing with the hot head, you all reluctantly agree and are on the road towards the Vamp nest.
“So how's your sister?” Dean asks in a lighthearted voice.
“Who knows..” You reply with a scoff.
You allow the long unpleasant quietness to linger in the air for a few moments.
"Where'd you say this is?" You ask peering out the window at the passing road signs.
"New York." Dean says.
Your face lights up and bit, and he notices.
"..State.. Don't get all excited we are not doing any shopping here princess…"
You cast him a disappointed scowl.
"...What?" Dean says with a huff. "...This is not the time for a city shopping trip, no way!" He says in a defensive tone.
You whip your head to the side and stare blankly at him.
"If you're gonna be in this kind of mood all weekend, you can turn right around and drive me home." You say sternly.
Dean shakes his head from side to side, a thick devilish grin growing across his face.  You read his tone and sit back in your seat with a huff.
"...Well you could at least let me smoke.." 
"Don't even think about stinking up 'baby' with those…those damn cancer sticks…" Dean says as the smirk fades away from his face.
"Well!" You throw your hands up in the air with a scoff, "Can you pull over then? Just for a minute?" You ask turning back towards him.
"Y/N, it's only been a few hours, we got a lot of pavement to chase to get there before tonight." He says calmer but still in his deep Dean tone.
You cross your arms and look back out the window without saying another word.  
Dean glances down at his watch and does a few double takes in your direction.
"...We'll stop soon for some grub.." Dean says lower again. "...can you wait till then?"
You sigh dramatically and try to sneak a side eye at Dean's sorrowful look you know he must have on his face right now.
"...Don't have much of a choice now, do I?" You grumble through a smirk.
Dean reaches for the volume dial and cranks it up a few notches as you both settle back into your seats. You watch as the highway signs pass by and watch your phone intently, wishing the time would pass quicker. 
Roughly twenty minutes go by in silence beside the roaring of baby's wheels, and classic rock that plays from the car stereo. Dean slows the car and veers off the side of the road. He reaches down into his coat pocket and shines the silver zippo in front of your face, ready to hand it over. You smile gleefully, holding up your generic pink lighter before stepping out of the car and slipping a cigarette between your lips quickly. You suck at the little stick and feel the head rush from not having had one in some hours. You steady yourself against the car and suck long puffs. All too soon, you've sucked down to the filter and you drop the butt to the ground and stub it out with the toe of your boot. 
You slide back in beside Dean and he scoffs revving the engine a bit. 
"You stink." He says plainly in his Dean tone. You barely shut the door before he slams the car in drive and heads back towards the pavement. 
"You stink!" You mock back, rolling your window down a bit for him. "..thank you.." You add quietly. 
"You gonna quit the silent treatment with me now?" He asks still harshly, but more jokingly this time.
"Hmmm…maybe…" You add with a giggle as you peer out the window.
You reach over and turn the radio up a few notches again as an AC/DC song begins to blare over the ancient stereo.  You and Dean both look at each other and allow a long awaited hearty laugh to leave your mouths.
"You really thought Sam wouldn't fight babysitting, huh?" You ask, peering from the road in front of you and back to Dean's handsome chiseled face. He has a tiny bit of stubble growing in around his mouth and you allow your stare a bit longer than you know you should, as you follow the faint trail down towards the collar of his shirt. He snaps his head back towards you with a wicked smile and you dart your eyes back up to his trying to smile calmly. 
"Nah, he's just better at it.." Dean says before looking back towards the road. 
You sigh and join him looking out through the windshield at the cracked worn road.
"Oh please…" you say, shifting in your seat a bit. "...we all know ‘daddy Dean’ is just a big teddy bear at heart.." You say confidently. 
"Daddy Dean, huh?..." He smiles, snapping his head back towards you for a brief second. "..I like when you talk dirty to me…"
You reach over and playfully push his face away and he chuckles a bit, straightening in his seat. 
"I'm serious!" You say through a chuckle of your own.
"I can vividly recall all the times you'd pluck Finn from his highchair and dance with him in the kitchen while making bacon…" you say, recalling the events as if they happened only a few days ago. 
You peer over seeing the faint grin on Dean's face as he also can recall the events. You smile down towards your lap and reminisce in the memories that dance through your head.
“...What was that song you used to play all the time?” He asks in a charming tone.
“Banana pancakes!” you blurt out.  “I love that song!”
“I hate that song..” Dean says in unison with you. “...Jack Johnonson, disgrace to musicians everywhere…” he jokes with a smile still on his lips.
“Come on, it wasn't that bad..” You add through a giggle.
“Oh it was!..” Dean shakes his head staring out the windshield. “...I only let you play it, cuz Finn liked it…”
You bop your head a bit in your seat, turning back out towards your window. 
“...Can’t you see, it's just raaiin…nin….” you hum under your breath.
“...Ain't no need to go outside…” Dean adds after a long pause.
Your smile widens across your face as you flash your head around towards Dean; his eyes darting back and forth across the road. 
“It’s a stupid song!” he says, still smirking. “Who even likes pancakes?! Waffles are where it's at!”
You giggle quietly to yourself and look ahead again.
“Especially ‘Banana’ pancakes… if anything…chocolate chip! I mean come on!” 
You allow a long cackle spill from your lips, and lean forward in your seat a bit.  Dean eyes darting between you and the road, as you try to calm your fit of laughter a bit.
“You know, I… I really miss you guys..” you say, allowing your unguarded words to linger in the air for a moment without meeting Dean's look.
“...Yeah, we miss you guys too..” he says after a long pause.
His giant palm reaches out and tenderly pats your thigh; you swallow hard and freeze. You stare out the window beside you as you feel the red heat rush into your face, enjoying his huge, rough, warm hand resting heavily on your little thigh next to him. You can’t help but give into the fact that any touch from him makes your heart race and your pulse quicken. You try to calm yourself as the overwhelming, senseless urge; to grab him by his chiseled broad jaw, and collide his perfect plump little pink lips against yours, burns in your chest. 
He leaves his hand on your leg for what feels like an eternity, but in reality it was probably just a few seconds.  Finally, and although regrettable as much as reliving; Dean retracts his hand back and grips at the wheel. You allow a long exhale to escape you as you try to hide the shiver gyrating through you as you straighten your pant legs and pull out your phone. You click the home button and peer down reading ‘0 New Notifications’ and the time reading ‘10:49am’ before sliding it back into your jeans pocket. 
“Hang in there, just about an hour to go before we stop for lunch..” Dean says casting you a dreamy apologetic look.
You settle back in and stare out towards the windshield at the road before ‘baby’, reminiscing about the times that now seem so far from your grasp…
~~~~
The faded sign on the front of the rundown dinner screams ‘food poisoning’, but you know it's no use trying to urge Dean to go elsewhere. You both step out from the car and hear the doors slam shut behind you. Digging down into your purse you grab a cigarette out of its pack and place it between your lips. Dean meets your eye, gesturing he’ll meet you inside and you suck deep inhales of the cigarettes poison nectar; unlocking your phone screen and ensuring you have no missed calls or messages from Sammy. Inside, you motion to Dean, you're running to the bathroom and he casts you an impatient look.
You wash your hands and freshen your appearance before turning and heading back out. 
Dean's face looks pissed, per usual and you apologize under your breath before sitting down across from him. He slides the discolored scratched up plastic menu in front of you, and you flip slowly through its waxy pages. 
“You didn’t get any calls from Sam, did you?” You ask, grazing through the menu.
“No, should I have?” Dean asks with a cold tone.
“No! No, I just wanted to make sure..” You close the menu tapping your fingers impatiently against the confetti resin tabletop. “I just want to make sure Finns alright…” your voice trails off as Dean motions the waitress over to your table.
“...You know what you want right?...” he asks, plucking the menu away and handing them irritably with a huff to the heavy set waitress.
Your eyes grow wide; realizing you hadn’t even considered food yet. 
“What can I get ya..” the large woman asks in a grumpy unpleasant voice.
“I’ll take a double bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries, and what the hell…” Dean says in a quick breath.. “...Extra large Chocolate milkshake.” he adds with a wink to the woman.  
She presses hard against her pad of paper in her hand and tilts her glasses back up on her face before looking over towards you;
“And for the Mrs.?..” 
Yours and Dean's eyes meet for a second before he clears his throat and blushes a bit.
“Oh no, we’re not..” You try to express plainly. “..I’ll just take a house salad..” You say after tripping over your explanation. 
Dean fidgets in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. 
“..Sorry honey, we’re out of iceberg...” The waitress states pushing her glasses up her nose again.
‘Oh, alright…ummm.” You peer over to Dean who flashes you another impatient look. 
“How about the chicken salad?.. On a brochure bun?” you ask hopefully.
“We’ve got bread..” she says scribbling at her pad.
“That's fine.” you add quickly. 
“Wheat, rye, or white?...” She asks.
“Actually, know what… Scratch the chicken salad, can I just get a grilled cheese, white bread, and a side of pickles?” 
The woman irritatedly scratches out the line on her pad and jots the new order down. 
Dean flashes you a look of disappointment and you scrunch your smile upside down a bit.
“Drink?” the lady states coldly.
Dean sighs and palms his face with a sigh. You nod in agreement and look back up at the lady with a big smile.
“...Any chance, you got any spirits?”...
The dinner's speaker system squeaks with local ads as you sit in your chair chomping small loud bites from your pickle. Your second vodka soda sits on the edge of the table near your arm; nearly empty again, as you stare off over Dean's shoulder. He sits back in his seat staring out the window.  One arm hangs beside him while the other is propped up on the back of a metal chair.  You take another tiny bite of your cold cheese sandwich and close your eyes, chewing thoughtfully as you feel your buzz rise in your chest.
“I can’t believe you still eat that crap..” He states with a chuckle.
Interrupting your empty thoughts, you blink your eyes a few times before meeting him.
“Me? What about you, Mr. Two pounds of bacon a day…” You reply, dropping your pickle on your plate and wiping your fingertips. 
“I’m surprised you haven't had a heart attack yet!” 
Dean chuckles a bit again.
“Ah, we’re all gonna die one way, or another…” He says gruffly, taking a gulp from his milkshake.
A taylor swift song comes on over the squeaky speaker and you begin bouncing your head a bit to the beat of the music.  Dean stares at you disapproving and you flash him a slight smirk as you chew with your lips closed. His eyes quickly fall from you back out the window; clearly set on something coming through the dinners front door. You stop your head bobbing and swallow the dry cheese down, with the last sip of your drink and place the cup near the edge of the table, hopeful for one more refill. 
Behind you, the doors chime as you hear the high pitched giggles of customers coming in and walking up to the bar in the front.  You roll your eyes and glare a bit from the side towards the group of presumably jailbait girls seated at the counter. 
Probably skipping school for some ‘pop’, or maybe even ice cream you imagine. 
Dean's eyes are locked on the group of girls; who are squealing with excitement and giggling, while talking to the heavy set woman behind the counter. You look straight ahead towards him shooting him a very disapproving look. His tongue darts out and drags across his bottom lip as he watches them. You grab your cup sitting at the end of the table and swirl the melted ice around a bit slurping at the tiny remnants of anything in the cup. You reach over and poke him in the chest. His gleaming eyes, meeting yours after a long pause. 
“Put your tongue back in your mouth, grandpa..” you tease him, placing the cold plastic cup back down. 
His gaze wavers back between you and the girls sitting precariously on their bar stools. 
“Oh stop, you’re just jealous.” he tells you, still staring intently.
Your hand falls a bit harder than you had anticipated and you clear your throat avoiding Dean's look. 
“Easy there killer, it was just a joke..” he teases watching you fumble a bit to recover.
“You're despicable.” You say with a scowl on your face. “Those are children!” 
You peer back over towards the group; correct they indeed were in getting some ice cold pop… as children would be…  
The large woman's eyes; meet yours and you gesture to the cup again. She rolls her eyes dramatically, not trying to hide it any bit and makes her way over to the table again.  Dean's head snaps up when she intersects his view and he gives you a concerned look of disapproval. 
“You really think you need a third?” he says through his tight lips and glaring eyes.
“What? I’m not driving!” you state plainly with a shrug.  
The lady pours you another vodka soda, spilling half the soda and leaving the rest of the can on the table.
“Oh, um… can you leave the bottle too?” you ask kindly.
She drops the bottle back down on the table and Dean's look is tearing through you as you sip through your little red straw, while adding more of the cheap vodka to your cup.
“I don’t wanna hear it…” You tell him, taking a test sip of your drink.  “You have your flaws…” you add, eyeing the jailbait group of girls at the bar, “..I have mine..” 
A long pause settles between you and Dean as he sits back in his seat trying his best to stop eying the girls. 
“Well..” he says with a long heavy breath. “...At least you’re not a puker..”
“You would know..” you add quickly through eager sips.
Dean's eyes meet yours and you try your best to paint a pleasant face for him. He reaches his hand up behind his head and rubs at the back of his huge broad neck for a long moment before you finally see the smile creeping across his cheeks.  You finish the cup quickly and refill it, picking at Deans fries which are cold now. 
Before long you get up and use the restroom again before meeting Dean back out at the car. The bright hot sunlight burns your eyes as you step out of the dinner. You pluck your oversized shades from your purse and plop them over your face before reaching for the pack of cigarettes. Flipping open the little red box, you’re down to three left.  Eagerly awaiting the disapproval of Dean when you’ll have to ask him to stop for more. 
Dean taps impatiently out his window and you suck at the butts filter harder, trying to fill your craving before hopping back into the car for who knows how long. You settle in and Dean peels back out onto the highway with the radio turned up and the windows down.  You pull back your hair, and strap it in a messy bun on top of your head to keep the wind from whipping it all around. You grab your phone out of your jean pocket again and peer down at the time ‘1:45pm. Soon, Finn would be getting off the bus in front of your house not knowing Uncle Sam would be waiting for him at the front door.
You swipe open the screen and dig through your contacts searching for Sam's info.  You open it, and send a text reminding him what time Finn gets off the bus. Impatiently, you shake your leg waiting for a response. 
“They’ll be fine..” Dean says without having to ask.
“I know…I just..” you don’t finish your sentence as you feel the jump from the phone buzz.
‘Got it.’
“See, quit worrying Y/N..” Dean says in a hushed voice, while peering through the rear view.
You lock your phone and suck in a harsh breath hearing the words he utters. Although you had had plenty of practice keeping your feelings concealed for so long, the time spent apart and certain things that this monster of a man uttered, were now painstakingly hard to swallow.  You set your phone back down on the seat and feel the warm glow of the alcohol radiating in your chest. Your cheeks grow warm and you press them gently trying to extinguish the redness that may be appearing because of it.
With a long exhale you reach down and kick your shoes off before crouching in your seat and tucking your legs up under you. Sitting like a child in the front seat, Dean cranes his neck slowly over to look at you with a glare. 
“I know… you hate it..” you say, getting yourself comfortable. 
“..Old habits die hard…” You add remembering how upset he used to get with you sitting like that in the front seat. 
‘It's not safe, and you’re gonna smell up ‘baby’ like feet!’
Like he had any right to be complaining about your feet, they were roses compared to his and Sammy’s. And safety! Yeah right! Between the countless times he had died, cheated death, been brought to the brink of death and back, was he really anyone to bark orders about safety?
Where was safety during all the times you had been sent into the darkness alone to lure out the waiting monsters? Or how about when you were the only one small enough to squeeze between the live electrical boards at the bunker? What about being outnumbered and ‘voluntold’ you were easier to lift when needing to reach up high, or even better; to be boosted through an abandoned house window, to let the giant lumberjacks through the front door… For two individuals who constantly put themselves in thoughtless danger every day of the year, they sure had an odd way of prioritizing safety…
Safety was in numbers, it was being prepared for the worst and hoping for the best. It was learning hand motions, and code words, for more uses than you'd like to admit would come in handy. Most importantly, it was about knowing when to ask for help when the outcome was less than bleak; a notion you remembered, being thoroughly driven into your brain; while still absent from theirs, even after all these years…
Tags: @nancymcl @123passwort LMK, if youd also like to be tagged in these!
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bvrtysbvtches · 2 months
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ok but i need to know if marie actually sent dean those fic links
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nahpkmp · 3 months
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Poor poor boy
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spn2006 · 4 months
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the fact that eric kripke isn't even christian really adds something to the way christianity is depicted on supernatural. because its really not about being christian at all, but about living in america, a country dominated by christianity, and having to decide for yourself how to handle that. faith is huge in supernatural, and the mythology of the show is very bible-centric, but notably, christ is never there. even sam, who starts out revering the angels, who once said he prays every night, doesn't actually call himself a christian or imply that he believes in jesus--the show is steeped in christianity and biblical lore and yet neither sam nor dean are christians. in fact, over and over again the church itself is depicted as a haunted house that sam and dean will only ever enter as strangers, as outsiders. priests, preachers, faith healers, chapels, crypts, etc. are all just iconography that create an intense sense of unease that sam and dean respond to instantly. as a jew, its very relatable. an essential part of living in america when you're not christian is that exact sense of unease, of knowing that the culture of your country has ensured that you'll get knocked over by christianity no matter where you go, that you'll see hundreds of people truly believing they're good people while doing awful things in the name of their god, and you have no choice but to confront that. kripke gets it
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molt3ngold · 4 months
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The way they’re literally in order.
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inacatastrophicmind · 1 month
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Boops for you. Boops for me. Boops for everyone (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ ✧゚・: *⋆⭒˚。⋆
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