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#definitely gross but that’s a gross moment and it’s cool of dean to be our living dead girl ❤️
clickbaitcowboy · 3 years
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im really interested in why you draw dean with autopsy y-incision scars!!! whats the lore king
My lore for Dean’s vivisection scars:
In the MOC arc, that weird head of the the styne family? I think he ACTUALLY starts to cut dean open when he has him pinned to the table (to take him apart) THEN dean breaks out of restraints halfway through the cut and kills them all. Then he just staples himself up to heal and keep moving in his rage.
Eventually when fighting Cas later that night the staples fall out during their scuffle (bc of the marks sped up healing factor) and now he has that scarring.
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danisaur-arts · 3 years
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THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES: BOOK REVIEW
Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk
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A couple of weeks ago, I was rewatching Catching Fire to have something in the background while I painted my nails. Truth is I was too hooked with the movie to do much painting, and that's how 2013 me took over and I became invested in the world of the Hunger Games again. I reread the trilogy and then got TBoSaS for a Christmas gift.
I knew absolutely nothing about the book. For a while I even thought it was about Haymitch's games. But after opening it I realized it was about president Snow?! I was mind-blown but also excited to get this perspective on how a young boy became a horrid viper president.
The book, with all honesty, starts quite very slow. But so does The Hunger Games and also Gregor the Overlander. Collins likes to have a solid establishment of the protagonist's world before diving into the story. In my opinion, TBoSaS opening is the slowest opening of all her books, but not without justification.
As the story moves on, we are presented to an ambitious Coriolanus Snow. Mind you, ambitious, not evil yet. He meets Lucy Gray Baird, District 12's girl tribute who he had to mentor for the 10th Hunger Games, and us the readers are quick to pick up the spark this Covey girl had on Panem's future president.
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Snow's relationship to Lucy Gray Baird developed an entire new persona of him. His usual hateful and ambitious character he usually has when talking to the likes of Sejanus or Dean Highbottom is gone when he's with Lucy Gray. That scared me at the beginning, because it sort of made Snow empathize-able and also low-key made me ship him with Lucy Gray. But then I realized something, and you should keep this in mind when reading this book too; we already know Snow is evil, we genuinely know the book won't have a happy ending and we know there's no lovely future with Lucy Gray Baird. So, that means this book is not about a love story, or the games themselves. It is about how quickly a highschool boy can develop a dictator's ideology and how quickly the media can make something as horrible as the hunger games an entertaining show.
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I particularly liked this bit about the hunger games in the book, to see this entirely different perspective of the games, not only on how they used to be organized, but on how they were seen by the people of the Capitol. To think many of them used to even hate them and find them gross is just proof that anything dressed nicely can fool the vanity of the people.
But back to Snow, I want to emphasize on the point that evil is not born, it is made. Snow did not develop his ideas by himself. Dr. Gaul was clearly pulling his strings. Feeding him with her ideology and pushing the little things we all think in the darkest part of our hearts to the surface, Making Snow justify them as necessary. Maybe he had evil in him, but it was Dr. Gaul who shaped it to the man he became. And Snow didn't let her down, because at the end, it is our actions who define us, not our words. And he proved to live by his evil ideas (rip Sejanus, we will always miss you even though you were a drama queen)
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And I think Snow developed this mindset ^^ towards the ending. What he had with Lucy Gray Baird had the potential of becoming something lovely, but it was merely something based on a crush. Ladies and lads, do not be fooled by kisses! Snow became gradually possessive about Lucy Gray as the story developed, because he was also settling on his idea about control. But Lucy Gray is someone so spontaneous and free that it seemed impossible to chain her up. He may have loved her the most, but the impossibility of controlling her led him to a choice, to leave her or to destroy his ideology by staying with her. So he grew to hate her, as he hated his incapacity to control the Mockingjays... As he hated Katniss Everdeen
His desire to control everything blinded him. Desperately clinging to his lucky card that Snow lands on top, he forgot one thing:
The show's not over until the Mockingjay sings
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Overall, the book has some cool hooking moments, but is quite slow when sometimes it shouldn't be. I definitely think it could've been a little shorter than it is. There are some events in the plot that feel fanfiction-ish, like the "rebel explosion" in the arena before the games, still trying to decipher the need of that one. Most of the characters names are incredibly hard to pronounce and remember. And I feel the ending was a little too rushed. I am not a fan of the way Collins writes epilogues tbh, but she's still a genius queen. The loose ends on Lucy Gray bothered me at first, but as someone pointed out, she is a mystery herself, no wonder her ending is one as well.
I loved to see this new ambiance of an almost defeated capitol and how the games used to be. Loved Tigris' moments which only add more fire to how Snow treated her years later. Lucy Gray is what I aspire to be and I also loved all the backstory Collins gave to all secondary characters.
The plot is well driven and the story, while slow, can be very hooking.
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Rating: 8/10
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prince-of-elsinore · 3 years
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More reasons to enjoy Season 12
Part 2 to this post
These are just my (mostly) not too serious thoughts on things I enjoyed about season 12 (which believe me, I do have criticism of, but not for this post) now that I have finished my re-watch of it.
- they unfridged the original fridged woman. bold move, good course correction
- Mick as a foil to Sam, Ketch as a foil to Dean. That's all. 
- it's goddamn refreshing to have Sam and Dean on the same page most of the time! Like in 12x15 Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell, Sam has been keeping the secret that he's working with the BMOL. But the secret only lasts one episode, and when Sam realizes he needs to come clean, Dean doesn't blow up at him. Sam being honest and Dean being accepting of Sam's decision: both evidence of growth! And in 15x20 The Future, they're on the same page about not wanting to let Cass go with Kelly. They both think he's been brainwashed (b/c that is definitely what it looks like). I just like seeing them agree on stuff, ok?
- Sam embracing his life and feeling comfortable with himself!! I see this season as a turning point, especially for Sam. I don't believe he's simply been brow-beaten into accepting a life he hates; I think he's consciously choosing to embrace the good of what he does and to take pride in it. His relationship with hunting will never be the same as Dean's, but, like I said: they're on the same page. As he tells Mary in 12x14 The Raid--"I chose this life." This is mostly due to choosing Dean, more than choosing hunting, but in any case, it is a conscious choice and Sam is making the one that is worth it to him, the choice that brings him fulfillment. And he even sees new worth in hunting itself, in a way that is very much in line with his character, as he expresses in 12x18 The Memory Remains (which I talk about more here).
- and that newfound confidence and comfort with who he is allows Sam to take a huge step in 12x22 Who We Are. I was so proud of him when he says "I called you here" instead of "We called you here." Sam has always had an independent streak, and he's stepping out from Dean's shadow in a healthy way here. He's allowing himself to be an individual agent. I always felt that in the end, he needed something of his own to be fulfilled, more than hunting with Dean--either a mentorship or leadership position (both of which he gets in the late seasons). This is his first step towards that, and he's so capable of it! He is a badass and he leads the hunters to victory over the BMOL on his own. 
- and Dean lets him!! This is a huge step for Dean too! Of course he's still worried about Sam (the "you come back" gets me every time), but he's not insisting on being there to protect him. He believes in Sam. He tells Sam he's ready for this, and when Sam hears it from Dean, he knows it's true. They need each other, but here we're seeing need of a healthier type--the way no one is an island, and we all need the love and support of our friends/family. They offer each other that, and it gives them the strength they need. I was so proud of Dean in that moment.
- ALSO so proud of Dean for, for once, acknowledging his own needs. Trying to save Mary is the right task for Dean--he'll never give up on family. But in the process, he speaks some truths that needed speaking. Admitting that he was set up to fail in raising Sam, that his whole life has been so unfair. Letting himself feel resentment towards the family whose hold is so tight on him. But, at the end of the day, still choosing love. "I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand... 'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once." Dean understands better than anyone that sometimes love causes harm, but it's still love and who can blame a person who acts out of love? And the thing is, love can also redeem. And here, Mary and Dean, both of whom have made some terrible choices in the name of love, find their way back to each other through love. Dean gives Mary the forgiveness he seeks for himself. This is Dean at his best.
- and even Sam gets in on the action. He, too, chooses love, and forgiveness. The family hug at the end of Who We Are is EVERYTHING.
- ok Who We Are isn't the only good episode so I'm gonna backtrack to talk about some others, like 12x11 Regarding Dean--it's funny! It's sad! Carrying on a great spn tradition of episodes like Mystery Spot and Yellow Fever. The sticky notes are wonderful. Sam knowing Dean well enough to leave them in the trunk of the Impala, with a big "NO" over the grenade launcher. Dean holding up "Witch Killing Bullets" without saying a word. Pointing his gun in confusion at Sam, who yells and points, "Brother! Witch!" :)
- 12x12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)—who doesn’t love a Tarantino tribute? (Having just watched Kill Bill, I can certainly say I love it). And the return of the Colt! Crowley's "It’s amazing what some people just leave laying about." Snark king.
- 12x13 Family Feud—I want to write a longer meta about the theme of family and love and sacrifice in this episode, so I won't go into it here. But another nice thing is how united the brothers are in their anger when Mary reveals she's been working with the BMOL. It's the closest we get to addressing Sam's torture and violation at the beginning of the season. I get the feeling Dean isn't so angry b/c of what Lady Bevell did to him, but b/c of what she did to Sam, which makes me think he knows it was bad, and Dean supported Sam in whatever he needed after that, whether it was talking about it or just giving some space, etc. Love some defensive big brother Dean.
- 12x14 The Raid—Actually a pretty tense action episode. And Mick is cool.
- 12x16 Ladies Drink Free—The Mick team-up is fun (I like changing up the dynamics), as is seeing them stay in a 3 star hotel lol. Dean has some good moments that highlight his growth, too. His "I used to think the same thing, too" to Mick, as if it weren't already obvious that he's taken "saving people" more to heart than "hunting things." He's done a lot of work to evolve beyond who he was with the Mark of Cain and even before. He also makes it perfectly clear what he thinks of guys skeeving on underage girls, and it's nice the writers finally emphasize that Dean does not like that behavior. He's past the point in his life where he'd make a joke about cheerleaders being legal (back in season 4. Quick digression: that's definitely a gross thing to say, but I always saw it as performative more than a declaration of intent. He puts on what he thinks macho guys would say. Not that Dean doesn't oggle what he likes, but one thing has always been very clear to me about Dean--he's a fan of enthusiastic consent. Anyway this should probably be a longer post b/c I could talk about Dean and performative masculinity and sexual attraction ad nauseam so I'll leave it there)
- 12x18 The Memory Remains—I've already gone over in my previous meta what this ep says about legacy, but there are other fun things about it. Like a Goat-headed monster! Man, how long has it been since the bros took on an urban legend like this? Like... any since freakin' Bloody Mary? Also Dean being cool with the kid smoking weed. You just know he likes to light up sometimes. Man, I need more weed-smoking Dean in my life
- 12x20 Twigs and Twine and Tasha Banes--this is a good fuckin ep. Finally, someone else on this goddamn show is allowed to be as codependent and unwise as Sam and Dean, and isn't punished for it. Let Max keep his wood-puppet sister! (Wow I KNOW it's really fucked up b/c I guess he can control her, too, but damn if it isn't fascinating. And sad. I hope they figure out some way to restore her autonomy) I stan two (2) codependent witch twins
- 12x21 Something About Mary--I'm a sucker for the silent communication and flawless telepathy as Sam and Dean find the bug and lay the trap for the BMOL. And that letter from Eileen :C (Even if her thing with Sam leaves me cold, I'm glad she got to come back to life b/c she sure didn't deserve to go like that)
- Ok one more thing about Who We Are--I'm a sucker for the angst of them thinking they're gonna die trapped in the bunker. And then Dean comes through with the grenade launcher, AND gets out the hole before it caves in. BAMF. I love that they saved themselves rather than some deus ex machina. No Supernatural interference necessary. Not even any deals with reapers, etc.
- I lied, one MORE thing about Who We Are--Sam doesn't take the bad deal Hess offers him (to help with Lucifer)! Once upon a time, I believe that Sam would have been so scared that he'd take the deal with the snake, masking his fear and foolishness as pragmatism. But he knows his own worth now. He knows he doesn't need the BMOL, terrified as he is.
- Finally, it was sad to say goodbye to Crowley in the finale, but it was a worthy end. You'll be missed, Fergus MacLeod.
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sortasirius · 4 years
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“Last Call” and Canon Bi Dean
This is going to be very long, very rambly, and very emotional.
Really though, I had high expectations going into this, and quite honestly?  Jeremy Adams blew me away.
This episode is about Dean’s growth, it’s about who he was to Lee, and who he is now, about overcoming his own desire to just stop caring and keep on fighting for the innocent.  But most importantly to me?  This episode canonized bi Dean.
So let’s just get right into it, we know from the beginning that we’re meeting Lee, Dean’s old friend that Sam doesn’t really know or isn’t really close with, but the way Dean leaves?  He doesn’t want to bring down the mood of Sam and Eileen in his post breakup depression funk?  Good grief.
The bar is cool and right up Dean’s alley, and right out of the gate we get the promo scene with the waitress that we were all wigging out about.  And my hunch was right, Dean just kinda rolls right by, which man, Dean from season 1?  Hell no.  She’s just his type, clearly into him, and yet, Dean’s world literally falls away when he sees Lee Webb singing onstage.
You can’t really do justice to the way with words to the way that Dean looks when he sees Lee and realizes who he is, Jensen and Christian have so much NUANCE in their scenes together, and the history behind them is palpable, even though we don’t know the extent of it.  And Lee is just the same way, looking Dean up and down and “Dean Winchester,” just to hammer home that something is going on here and we should not ignore it.
“You got time?”  “Always.”  Bruh. There are so many details that we can pick up on about them, their relationship, who they were to each other.  Even Dean’s little “you sound good,” come on guys, what the fuck?
That’s another thing: why don’t we know the history?  Why do they shy away from talking about why they split apart?  Dean is clearly upset when Lee mentions Arizona, what happened?  Why did John and Dean never mention Lee? And obviously Lee knows John, hell he seems more sorry than Dean does that John’s dead, but then again, the Dean that Lee remembers idolized John, so that’s definitely a big change for Lee, because Dean clearly doesn’t idolize John anymore.
I just want to hear about everything that’s mentioned in the episode in more detail: Lee and Dean went hunting together, presumably alone, since John caught them drunk on a hunt.  What went on?  I think we know. How often did they hunt together? How long had they known each other? D E T A I L S please Jeremy Adams!!!
“I don’t think I have seen you since Sammy was in college.”
“Right.”
“I mean, hell, I thought you were-”
“Dead?”
Also Lee does this little teasing laugh and everything about them is soft and my chest hurts.
“I mean, that’s usually how this ends, isn’t it?”
And what I want to talk about here is Lee’s reaction, because he doesn’t shrug and do the usual “so it goes” that so many hunters do, he looks at Dean, like really looks at him, he sighs and says a simple “yeah” with this look that’s so soft and so full of something and Dean looks away (doing his eye motion thing he does with Cas) and Lee breaks contact too and looks down and smiles and oh my god.  I told yall this was going to be rambly but I didn’t draw breath while typing that lmao.
I wanna know about the Arizona thing, I want to know why it made Dean uncomfortable when Lee mentioned it, and I want to know why it’s glossed over.  These two were like best friends, you can tell, and for them to just stop talking?  Hm.
They swap tales, talking about the triplets that they “split em up fair and square” even though that’s not possible and they had an orgy obviously.  Dean has this look with the waitress again and you can tell he appreciates it but like?  That’s the end of it?  In the next scene she’s gone and it’s just Lee and Dean talking, Dean making Lee laugh and enjoying it, it’s just so...romantic?
And even though, the second that Lee doesn’t recognize someone he should puts all of us, as the audience on alert, it doesn’t even cross Dean’s mind that Lee is doing something wrong, it’s not even on his radar.
“There’s nothing you can’t have, man.”
“Then who’s gonna kill the bad guys?”
“Somebody else.”
And Dean looks away, because it’s clear what Lee is asking.  He’s asking for Dean to stay.
When Lee starts up the band, I was just struck by how much they look at each other, getting in each other’s space, Lee leaning forward, Dean watching him walk away.  Guys.  This happened in front of our faces on screen.
“Can’t sit around lip syncing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ when no one’s watching.”
This is a callback to the ghost sickness episode, but also an intimate moment that no one gets to see of Dean.  Sam catches him in the act of it on that episode, so how does Lee know he does this?
And then, let’s get to the singing.  Dean’s always postured to Sam that he can’t sing (which we all know Jensen has the voice of an angel) and the buildup to him actually singing was so beautiful, because Lee knows he can, he teases him with the “Eye of the Tiger” thing, winks at him, keeps trying to pull him onstage, stands there and bites his lip when Dean’s singing.  I mean.  I’m at a loss to what else you would think about them, it’s just plain as day: they were together.
The whole thing is just so playful, and we never see playful like this from Dean.  It’s flirty and funny and sweet and just such a nice change of pace, so good for Dean to be with someone that clearly wants to be with him, who he has history with (amidst the divorce he’s currently in w Cas).  Even when they sing together they can’t keep their eyes off of each other and the whole thing is honestly too much it’s so fanfic-y and I can’t handle it.
And then, the big thing, Lee slaps Dean’s ass in the middle of the song, and Dean doesn’t blush, he doesn’t stand up straighter like that’s weird or wrong, he grins this huge amazing beautiful grin and says “you son of a bitch.” What else are we looking for here?  He’s bi.  He’s bi.  With the lighting behind him and the bar named Swayze’s and Lee staring holes through him, we finally saw onscreen, canonical proof that he’s bi.  Sure, it’s been hella subtextual before, but this is text, and no one can ignore it.
At the end of the song, one of Lee’s hands is gripping Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s arm is around Lee’s waist??????????  Help??????
They round it all out with kicking some gross guys out of Lee’s bar, and Lee stares at Dean and says “still got it.” I mean....I’m running out of ways to say the same thing over and over.
“Best friend’s don’t just leave without saying goodbye.”
“They do if they deserve it.”
Hmmmmmmmm, something to think about with these lines.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on okay, but this is not you.”
Compare that with:
“Cas, this isn’t you, this isn’t you.”
Cool.  Fine.  I want to die.
Lee became the monster because he thought there was no point in being a good person anymore.  You can’t stave them off so you might as well “have a little fun.”  Which I think is interesting because of how apathetic and hopeless Dean’s been since Chuck, since Jack, since Mary, since Rowena, but when it comes down to it, he’s always going to care, which is why we love him.
But what I really want to talk about is the way Dean’s face twists when Lee touches him, he turns his head away, his face contorts, like he wanted Lee to touch him, but not like this.  We’ve seen Dean’s heart break so much in this show, he’s lost so much and so many, but this is something so different.  It’s not only betrayal, or a realization that he has to kill Lee, it’s the loss of what he had with Lee, what he felt for him.  It hurts to watch as an audience member, and I can’t imagine how it is for Dean.
Dean’s voice also breaks when he tries to call Lee back, in case you still had any tears left to cry.
The gunfight is intense, but not nearly as intense as what’s coming.
“I don’t know you.”
“You don’t Dean?  I am you.  I’m just you that woke up and saw that the world was broken.”
“Then you fix it.  You don’t walk away, you fight for it!”
No double meanings in this episode are there?  Perhaps this is a little bit of what happened between them all those years ago bubbling to the surface?
And then we get one of the best fight scenes in the show, and you know when Dean gets that cue stick, that it’s game over for Lee, but what I wasn’t expecting is the sheer heartbreak on Dean’s face.  They both look down at the wound, like they’re both surprised, and Lee holds Dean, he fucking holds him, and this fucking piano music plays when Lee says “okay” and drops to the floor, and Dean leans against the pool table because fuck, how much more can he lose?
And because not even THAT is enough, ten seconds of divorced Destiel distress?  Where Dean clearly wants to talk to Cas but Cas is still giving him the cold shoulder and it breaks Dean’s heart but he doesn’t know how to fix it????
There’s just so much to unpack here, the show is teaching us new things about Sam and Dean and Cas all the time, and yet I feel like I really know Dean know, I;ve seen a little bit of him that I had never seen before, and I’m just grateful. I’m grateful for Dean, grateful for these writers, grateful for his growth.  I’m grateful for the angst and the happiness he had with Lee, however fleeting, and I’m grateful that I get to leave this episode with the fact that Dean is oncreen bi.  Sure, it can be up to interpretation, he didn’t come out and say it, but that’s because he didn’t have to.  Lee knew, so we knew, and that was all that mattered.
This silly, weird show is important to me for so many reasons, (clearly, since I talk about it all the damn time), but Dean especially is so important to me, I see so much of myself in him, and him being allowed to be him, without some grand coming out scene is even better than I could have ever hoped for.  So thank you, Jeremy Adams, for giving us bi Dean, and one of my absolute all time favorite episodes in the show.
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Black History Month: some reading to get you started
Celebrate Black excellence with these titles
A Black Women's History of the United States by Daina Ramey Berry, Kali Nicole Gross
A vibrant and empowering history that emphasizes the perspectives and stories of African American women to show how they are--and have always been--instrumental in shaping our country In centering Black women's stories, two award-winning historians seek both to empower African American women and to show their allies that Black women's unique ability to make their own communities while combatting centuries of oppression is an essential component in our continued resistance to systemic racism and sexism. Daina Ramey Berry and Kali Nicole Gross offer an examination and celebration of Black womanhood, beginning with the first African women who arrived in what became the United States to African American women of today. A Black Women's History of the United States reaches far beyond a single narrative to showcase Black women's lives in all their fraught complexities. Berry and Gross prioritize many voices: enslaved women, freedwomen, religious leaders, artists, queer women, activists, and women who lived outside the law. The result is a starting point for exploring Black women's history and a testament to the beauty, richness, rhythm, tragedy, heartbreak, rage, and enduring love that abounds in the spirit of Black women in communities throughout the nation.
Black Detroit: A People's History of Self-Determination by Herb Boyd
The author of Baldwin’s Harlem looks at the evolving culture, politics, economics, and spiritual life of Detroit—a blend of memoir, love letter, history, and clear-eyed reportage that explores the city’s past, present, and future and its significance to the African American legacy and the nation’s fabric. Herb Boyd moved to Detroit in 1943, as race riots were engulfing the city. Though he did not grasp their full significance at the time, this critical moment would be one of many he witnessed that would mold his political activism and exposed a city restless for change. In Black Detroit, he reflects on his life and this landmark place, in search of understanding why Detroit is a special place for black people. Boyd reveals how Black Detroiters were prominent in the city’s historic, groundbreaking union movement and—when given an opportunity—were among the tireless workers who made the automobile industry the center of American industry. Well paying jobs on assembly lines allowed working class Black Detroiters to ascend to the middle class and achieve financial stability, an accomplishment not often attainable in other industries. Boyd makes clear that while many of these middle-class jobs have disappeared, decimating the population and hitting blacks hardest, Detroit survives thanks to the emergence of companies such as Shinola—which represent the strength of the Motor City and and its continued importance to the country. He also brings into focus the major figures who have defined and shaped Detroit, including William Lambert, the great abolitionist, Berry Gordy, the founder of Motown, Coleman Young, the city’s first black mayor, diva songstress Aretha Franklin, Malcolm X, and Ralphe Bunche, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. With a stunning eye for detail and passion for Detroit, Boyd celebrates the music, manufacturing, politics, and culture that make it an American original.
Black Against Empire: The History and Politics of the Black Panther Party by Joshua Bloom, Waldo E. Martin Jr.
In Oakland, California, in 1966, community college students Bobby Seale and Huey Newton armed themselves, began patrolling the police, and promised to prevent police brutality. Unlike the Civil Rights Movement that called for full citizenship rights for blacks within the U.S., the Black Panther Party rejected the legitimacy of the U.S. government and positioned itself as part of a global struggle against American imperialism. In the face of intense repression, the Party flourished, becoming the center of a revolutionary movement with offices in 68 U.S. cities and powerful allies around the world. Black against Empire is the first comprehensive overview and analysis of the history and politics of the Black Panther Party. The authors analyze key political questions, such as why so many young black people across the country risked their lives for the revolution, why the Party grew most rapidly during the height of repression, and why allies abandoned the Party at its peak of influence. Bold, engrossing, and richly detailed, this book cuts through the mythology and obfuscation, revealing the political dynamics that drove the explosive growth of this revolutionary movement, and its disastrous unraveling. Informed by twelve years of meticulous archival research, as well as familiarity with most of the former Party leadership and many rank-and-file members, this book is the definitive history of one of the greatest challenges ever posed to American state power.
Satch, Dizzy, and Rapid Robert: The Wild Saga of Interracial Baseball Before Jackie Robinson by Timothy M. Gay
Before Jackie Robinson integrated major league baseball in 1947, black and white ballplayers had been playing against one another for decades--even, on rare occasions, playing with each other. Interracial contests took place during the off-season, when major leaguers and Negro Leaguers alike fattened their wallets by playing exhibitions in cities and towns across America. These barnstorming tours reached new heights, however, when Satchel Paige and other African- American stars took on white teams headlined by the irrepressible Dizzy Dean. Lippy and funny, a born showman, the native Arkansan saw no reason why he shouldn't pitch against Negro Leaguers. Paige, who feared no one and chased a buck harder than any player alive, instantly recognized the box-office appeal of competing against Dizzy Dean's "All-Stars." Paige and Dean both featured soaring leg kicks and loved to mimic each other's style to amuse fans. Skin color aside, the dirt-poor Southern pitchers had much in common. Historian Timothy M. Gay has unearthed long-forgotten exhibitions where Paige and Dean dueled, and he tells the story of their pioneering escapades in this engaging book. Long before they ever heard of Robinson or Larry Doby, baseball fans from Brooklyn to Enid, Oklahoma, watched black and white players battle on the same diamond. With such Hall of Fame teammates as Josh Gibson, Turkey Stearnes, Mule Suttles, Oscar Charleston, Cool Papa Bell, and Bullet Joe Rogan, Paige often had the upper hand against Diz. After arm troubles sidelined Dean, a new pitching phenom, Bob Feller--Rapid Robert--assembled his own teams to face Paige and other blackballers. By the time Paige became Feller's teammate on the Cleveland Indians in 1948, a rookie at age forty-two, Satch and Feller had barnstormed against each other for more than a decade. These often obscure contests helped hasten the end of Jim Crow baseball, paving the way for the game's integration. Satchel Paige, Dizzy Dean, and Bob Feller never set out to make social history--but that's precisely what happened. Tim Gay has brought this era to vivid and colorful life in a book that every baseball fan will embrace.
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kyber-kisses · 4 years
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Hymn (Part 4)
Winchester Brothers x Sister!reader
Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the Masterlist!
Warnings: a good amount of feels and angst. . but there is fluff!
Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do? (Based on the song Hymn by Joel Porter) 
A/n: *Throws chapter at you and runs away* Have fun! (gif created by the lovely ellen-reincarnated1967)
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“What do you think your doing?” Your voice slightly raising as you stepped back into the motel room, shutting the door softly behind you with a loud click.
“Definitely . . . Not jumping on the bed?” Dean tried, both him and Sam staring down at you from their perch on the nearest bed.
“Wow. I’m convinced.”
“It was Deans idea!” Sam quickly pointed, his little hand lightly smacking against Deans face as he did.
“I leave for three minutes and you guys go crazy? Now I know I can never leave you guys again, which is disappointing-“ you sighed. “Seeing as I was gonna give you guys this extra bag of funyuns.” You slowly pulled the bag out of your hoodie pocket, instantly making Dean freeze.
“Okay, wait we’re sorry.”
“Oh are you? I said no funny business while I was gone.”
“Yes! I’m sorry! Can we have them?” Dean was practically vibrating at this point, teetering on the edge of the mattress.
Narrowing your eyes, you let a silence fall between you before giving in and toss the bag onto the other bed. “Fine, go to town. No crumbs on the bed.” It didn't even take a second before the middle child was vaulting over the space between the beds and ripping the bag open.
Sam grimaced, not making a move from his spot at all. “Funyuns are gross.”
“Yeah, well that’s why I got you this-“ being a subtle as you could, you passed Sam the candy bar you had grabbed from the vending machine with a quick wink, his eyes lighting up as he grabbed it.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
“Yeah, don’t tell Dean.”
“I won’t.”
“Pinkie promise?”
He linked his small finger with yours. “I pinkie promise.”
*. *. *. *. *. *.
“Sam? . . . Sam!”
Suddenly snapping back into reality, Sam whipped his head around took at his brother. “What?”
“I’ve been talkin to you for the past five minutes, have you even heard a word that I’ve said?”
“. . .yes?”
“Wow, you are a terrible liar. What the hell were you even thinking about?”
Pressing his lips together the younger Winchester contemplated whether or not to say anything. You were always a risky topic . . . Especially to Dean, and seeing as his brother had been in a decent mood most of the drive he really didn’t want to take that away.
“Dude, seriously. Tell me what’s going on in that weird head of yours.” Flexing his hands on the steering wheel, Deans eyes bounced back between the road and Sam.
“Y/N. . . What else do you think I would be thinking about right now?”
Dean sucked in a breath before he nodded his head in understanding. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really. She’s gone. What’s it matter?”
He expected Dean to snap, lash out- like he did when they were younger and the wound still fresh, but instead he was silent. . . Only because he was trying to remember everything he could about his sister, both good and bad. He needed something to keep him grounded. For instance, You had been good at making people laugh, you’d take things in directions people wouldn’t expect- lewder, darker, more absurd— then ambush them into responding. Some of Deans humor stemmed from your own, he liked to think it was his way of keeping you close. Along with a love for old western movies and a passion for classic rock.
Happy thoughts. Just keep thinking happy thoughts, Dean. Just because Sam brought up Y/N does not mean you need to get bitter.
Turning his attention towards the radio, the hunter played with the volume until it was a soft hum that could easily be spoken over.
“You remember when Y/N used to play music in the mornings while Dad was gone on hunts?”
Sam let out a soft chuckle as confirmation. “You mean with that dinky old radio she got at a yard sale for like three bucks?”
“Yes! That’s the one!” Dean snapped his fingers, a grin tugging on his lips. “And it wasn’t even the good music we usually listened to in the car. . . It’s was like shitty upbeat soul and R&B.”
“You know she would probably smack you on top of the head if she heard you say that, right?”
“Yeah, probably-“ Dean chuckled, flicking on the turn signal as he turned onto a narrow two lane street. “Anyways you know how’d she dance around to it too? For like the soul purpose of embarrassing is even though there was no one else around?”
“Yeah, and she couldn’t dance worth a shit.” Sam added, smiling as he slowly began to remember.You were always doing stuff to get them to smile or laugh because you knew that in a lifestyle as dark as your families, you needed to keep something lit.
The rest of the drive felt lighter. . . Easier after that small conversation. Even after decades of absence you somehow still managed to put smiles on their faces.Still working hard even in death.
And then Dean pulled into the cemetery and that light and happy feeling he had had moments ago flickered and faded like a dying candle and he could feel his insides slowly beginning to twist as his face dropped. He turned off the engine and barely got two steps from the car before the feeling was too much and it felt like he was being crushed.
“Dean?”
“You know what? On second though this was a terrible idea. Why did we do this? We shouldn’t have done this. Why the fuck did I suggest this?” He quickly rambled, backing towards the car and reaching for the keys again. “Let’s- lets just go home and forget I ever suggested visiting this place-“
The older Winchester didn’t get very far before his brother was letting out a sigh and pushing him forward again. “We drove all this way. You’re not backing out now.”
“Sam-“
“Dude, we both agreed we would do this. Let’s start with just a minute and go from there.”
There was silence for a moment before Dean huffed and stopped resisting his brothers pushing. He felt like a kid again coming back here. Hell the last time he had been here he still was one. Even though they never found a body, their dad was decent enough to pay for a headstone, a place to come back to.
And then they never did.
The cemetery was cool, dew still on the grass as the morning sun began to peak through the trees and light haze. The place was empty except for them. . . Because who visits a cemetery at 6:30 in the morning? Dean sucked in another breath of fresh air, jamming his hands into his pockets despite it growing warmer out as the sun began to rise.
“You know, we probably should have brought mom with us. It’s kinda a dick move on our part to do this and not tell her.” Dean grumbled, eyes already glued on the headstone ahead.
“She’s still on that hunt with Jody. I didn’t really want to bother her.”
“Oh yeah, you’re totally right.” Dean snarked. “Would hate to remind good ol’ mom that her first born has a headstone right next to hers.”
“Why are you being such a dick? You suggested we visit.”
“It’s nothing, Sam. Just drop it.”
Gripping his brothers shoulder suddenly, Sam halted Dean in his tracks. “Nice try. Tell me what’s going on. You were fine ten minutes ago.”
Dean gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before letting another sigh sleep through his lips. “Do you remember that case we worked a few weeks ago with the psycho spirit that caught us?”
“You mean reverend Johnson? Yeah, why?”
“I keep thinking about what he said-“
“Dean, he was a vengeful spirit. He was crazy.” Sam shook his head, dropping his hand from his shoulder. But Dean squeezes his eyes shut as if trying to forget. The words from the reverend still banging around inside his skull. Bad guys really needed to stop it with their monologues.
“What I’ve seen is that the lord provides for those who need it. If you don’t have something, that generally means you don’t need it, or you don’t deserve it.”
At first it had made perfect sense and Dean had just gone with it. He didn’t have his sister because he didn’t deserve to have one.
But then again, by that logic, they didn’t deserve a home when they were younger, and they didn’t deserve to love their sister and be safe. Y/N didn’t deserve her life.
“You’re right.” Dean nodded, in hopes of getting Sam to back off. “You’re right. Dude was crazy. Just hard to get those fuckin words out of my head.” He mumbled, the two of them somehow turning in unison to look at your headstone a few yards away.
It was like the granite slab was staring them both down. The two brothers both afraid to get closer. . . Because to Dean it was like having to face the truth all over again. You were gone. Here reality was set in stone (Pun intended). But then his legs were moving before his brain was and he was kneeling down the wipe the dirt and dust away from your name, calloused fingers smoothing over the engraved letters.
“Why’d you have to go be a hero, huh?” He whispered under his breath, feeling the sudden and familiar sting of on oncoming tears.
He could remember it all so clearly still, how you had thrust your rifle into his hands and quickly tugged on your oversized canvas jacket. How the wind had whipped at your partially pulled up hair when you swung the door to the motel room open. How you told them you’d be back and then never were. Dean wondered if you would still be the same now. Back then he was still too small for his flannels and still wasn’t sure how to aim a gun properly. If you were still alive what would you have looked like now? Would you be taller? Would your hair be longer? . . . And would you have recognized what he and Sam had become?
Would you recognize them at all?
“We shoulda brought flowers or something.” He mumbled, picking the few stray weeds that had grown around the base of the stone. He was fidgeting. He did that when he was uncomfortable.
“We can always go get some. We ain’t too far outside of town.”
Dean mumbled a soft I guess as he rested his chin on his knee, arms looping tightly around his leg as if trying to mimic a hug.
“I think I’m gonna call mom. She would want to be with us for the next stop we make. . . We can always come back here too if she really wants.” Sam spoke up, extending a hand to help pull his brother up.
“Do what you think is right or whatever. I’ll be in the car.” rising to his feet, Dean wiped the dirt from his hands onto the front of his jeans. If he stayed here another minute he was bound to start crying. As He began the trek back through the maze of headstones, his fingers absentmindedly tugged on the piece of fabric on his wrist. The bit of flannel gave him a sense of comfort, because sometimes a bit of cloth could feel like love, and that was all he really wanted right now. It was one of those moments in which he realized how many things he had lost that mattered. Dad. Bobby. Y/N. Sure he had lost mom, but she was back. The rest were still gone.
All he wanted was the chance to see Y/N again, to hear her say I missed you, and I've come home.
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Alright, so if you've been following along with me, Supernatural season 3 starts out on a trio of episodes that are Really Fun, slides into some episodes that are Pretty OK, then takes a real nose dive into Bummersville. Hoo boy guys, I really hope that this season picks up. I mean, it won’t, but I can still dream. 2021 was maybe not the year to start watching this season. Fair warning.
The next three episodes for this season are just, like, real downers. First we get “Fresh Blood,” which, aside from the terrible title, starts out on a high note. Gordon (gross) somehow manages to catch up with Bela (HOW??) and threatens her if she doesn’t hand over the Winchesters. Bela, in all of her class and grace, won’t give them up because she has a high price point and Gordon is really lowballing her here. Just like, yes, ok, please stay forever, you’re amazing and I love you. And what a scene this is! You have two characters, one with a strict moral code (albeit one that allows for violence and winning at all costs) and the other with almost NO moral code, but an allegiance that can be bought with the best price and it’s such a fun back and forth until Gordon pulls out a gun. And then she pulls out her phone and just has Dean on speed dial and that’s maybe my fav part. Bela has run into the Winchesters twice and they maybe legit hate her but she’s very much like, oh yeah, my BFF’s the Winchesters, I love those idiots!
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I love that we come back to this moment later in the episode when Bela, like, three days later, is like, Oh! I guess I should warn the Winchesters that some crazy guy is after them! She’s just so casual about it you kind of get the feeling that, even though technically Gordon was threatening her life, she doesn’t view him as A Threat. She gives the Winchesters a heads up just to be like oh yeah, you might want to watch out for this mild inconvenience, and she seems legit shocked when Dean freaks out. There’s this moment that plays across her face like, oh shit, did I...did I fuck up? And it adds a nice bit of depth to her character. She’s seems honestly worried, both for the lives of the Winchesters but also that Dean won’t like her anymore and that is just a charming bit of A C T I N G!
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I am gonna miss her SO MUCH when she dies at the end of this season. WHY did we CANCEL HER???
But despite the fun beginning, this episode is about monsters and how people become monsters and how other people are probably the reason. Because our main baddie is a vampire who hunts to...well, listen if we look at the facts that he lays out in his monologue, it’s a little more tragic - he’s trying to replace the daughters that he lost hundreds of years ago, cool motive, still murder. In practice though, he goes around turning hot blonde coeds into vampires and then ?????? Who knows. I’d like to believe that this was a problem with the CW executives or maybe casting/directing and not with the writing, but it’s SPN and you really can’t be sure with anything. The fact is, this is a CW show from the early 2000’s and a lot of their extras are cast to type. And that’s maybe me exhibiting some girl-on-girl crime, but there are other episodes that did a much less blatantly gross job casting their extras/Very Special Guest Stars.
Anyway, the POINT of this guy is that he’s a monster because someone killed his daughter and he’s just been trying to fill that grief hole inside of him for centuries. This is not unlike Gordon, who ALSO has been trying to fill a grief hole that he’s had for decades, except he’s not killing people and resurrecting them as blood suckers, he’s just killing them. And then, when the Vamp decides to turn Gordon it’s a real sweet moment of comeuppance for like, a HOT second and then you’re like, awww dude, ya done f’ed up. That was a bad idea. You’ve made a HUGE mistake.
More importantly, our Vampire In Question finally runs into the Winchesters and get’s to say things like “I was desperate! You ever felt desperate? I've lost everyone I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?” and also “I just ... I didn't care anymore. Do you know what it's like when you just don't give a damn? It's like ... it's like being dead already.” and Dean’s v. much like, THIS IS TOO REAL ROY.
Sam may ALSO be feeling Too Real feelings because he is DONE dicking around with Gordon and honestly yes, I like this, this is good Sam development. It’s nice to know that Sam has a breaking point. And I admit I’m of two minds about this moment because 1) I love the idea of Dark!Sam this season and that maybe Sam’s decision to actually kill Gordon is just one step in that process but 2) I ALSO love the idea of Sam Lite finally having a breaking point and Gordon is IT. I don’t know which theory I like more in this scenario, but they are both good theories.
I think as much as this episode wants to draw parallels between the monsters and Dean (thank you artful editors), you can’t look at the “I’ve lost everyone I ever loved,” line and not think of Sam? Cuz he’s got one (1) person left in his life that hasn’t died horribly, so how desperate is he about to get through the end of this season? I’ve definitely been watching this season with eyes on all the ominous Dean foreshadowing, but the Sam foreshadowing is also there, just buried under the heavy weight of a thousand smulders and suicidal levels of denial.
And also, FUCK the tag on this episode! Guys, it is CUTE but it is also HORRIBLE. Dean starts teaching Sam how to fix the Impala and at first it’s all, “Oh! Adorable Brothers Being Brothers!” and I loved it but then I almost immediately hated it because you realize this is about making sure Sam can get along without him once he’s gone and Dean just accepts his own death with such casual ease that it’s just...INFURIATING!
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This scene was rude and I HATE IT!
Cut to - “A Very Supernatural Christmas” Special!
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Guys, I was so excited when I got to this episode. THIS is Classic Supernatural Shenanigans. Plus, you know a Holiday Special is the ultimate sign that this show has Made It, right? Or it could be a sign that they’re selling out, who knows, but I think we can say that at this point in the series, SPN is established enough to start having fun with their fans. That’s what this says to me. BUT THEN what we get is like...oh boy.
First - like, I’mma beat this horse to death, but what is WRONG with this FAMILY? John Winchester very quickly devolved into the sort of father that forgot about every single holiday and did not ever, even a little bit, make up for it. It’s not a surprise, but it kind of wrecked me seeing a flashback where Baby Dean is just so attached to a father who can’t be bothered to actually care for his children. I know he’s not in this episode because Jeffrey Dean Morgan was tied up in other projects, but the fact that John doesn’t show up at the end to button the flashbacks with a But then he DID show up for Christmas! just makes this plot line that more gutting. And despite Dean’s hero worship of their father, this is maybe the Christmas where Baby Sam stops believing in his own father. The only bright side to this is that it continues to enforce the fact that Bobby should have sued John for custody. Bobby should maybe STILL Sue for custody so that Dean at least would feel like someone wants him for once in his life, damnit.
And then we wrap this episode up with the Best Worst Christmas of all, because we see Sam start to...also?? accept that Dean is about to die? Cuz that’s what this episode is really about - Dean’s Last Christmas. And everything about that makes me ~ u p s e t ~.
So Sam decides to put his curmudgeonly grinchy attitude aside in order to make it a special day for Dean and ugh. UGH. UGHGHGHG. Season three is the worst guys, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize that until right this second now.
So let’s wrap this up with "Malleus Maleficarum", honestly an episode that is mostly forgettable until we get to, like, the last five minutes. Sure, witches and curses and selling your soul, woohoo whatever.
But then we get some real Ruby centric reveals and like, WHAT is happening?? First off, the scene where Ruby and Tammy have a moment is a real Moment. There is some baggage and tension here and it is heavy. And then Tammy drops the mic when she reveals that Ruby used to be human.
THEN, Ruby legit saves their asses by killing Tammy with a fancy magic knife. Ok, Dean does the actual killing, but Ruby brought the fancy magic knife. So between the hot and heavy tension with “Tammy” and her repeated attempts to keep the Winchesters alive, we’re left wondering what IS Ruby’s deal? I personally wonder how much of the show’s mythology the show actually has figured out at this point? Because interviews with Kripke definitely walk the line between “Oh we definitely have this whole thing worked out,” and “yeah, we’re sort of finding things as we go along,” which is maybe why it’s able to last as long as it does. More on that later.
Of course the big kicker is the final scene between Ruby and Dean. Dean is almost on board with Ruby at this point in the season, and much like his scene with the demon in “Sin City”, they share a kind of vulnerable moment together where Ruby admits that, yeah, she was human once and yeah, Hell will destroy you, body and soul, and yeah Dean’s worst fear will probably come true - he will become the thing he hunts, no ifs, ands or buts about it. And Dean knows that Ruby knows that Dean knows that there’s no way to save Dean from his fate, but they both agree that they can’t take Sam’s last ounce of hope away from him because, for both of them, Sam is their hope. Ruby and Dean both see the war happening around them and they know that with Dean gone, Sam’s maybe the last guy holding back the tide to save all humanity.
Which, honestly? Bull shit. Do you know how many hunters are out there? Neither do I, but this season seems to indicate that there are a LOT. We have barely scratched the surface on the hunter community and it’s a damn shame that they are all weirdo loners because there is a war going on. You know what works great in a war? An ARMY. Buncha mentally unstable, martyr-complex ijits who can’t put their differences aside for one damn MINUTE so that maybe, JUST maybe, the could actually defeat the evil they’ve spent their entire lives dedicated to fighting. And if Ruby and Dean wanted to help Sam, what they should probably do is get him plugged in to that community. I do believe that of all they backasswards, self-obsessed, painfully anti-social crazies out there, the Winchesters are THE WORST.
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Listen tho, this was like, a solid scene between these two. Just a lot of work goin' into this and it paid off.
Anyway, back to the mythology for a hot second - This sort of loosey-goosey stumbling into your own world building is probably another one of those things that you’ll only really get in a show with this many episodes per season? It’s that room to play and experiment and just make stuff up as you go along. I think the slow drip method of releasing episodes ALSO helps in this scenario because you’re able to see what fans are reacting to in almost-real time. When viewers are binging episodes, I think you're less likely to see what specifically they’re reacting to and more wholistically they’re reacting to. And that’s not to say you won’t see those specific things that they like/love eventually, but by the time you get there, your season’s been produced in its entirety and you’ll have to bear that in mind for (hopefully) next season. But with SPN, they were writing and producing the show at the same time that some of the episodes were airing. That’s why they were able to make decisions on the fly, based on what fans responded to. And definitely by this point in the show, there was a sizeable and vocal fan base that made their feelings VERY well-known. We’re only in season three, but they’ve already had a number of con appearances and a pretty active online presence. That kind of feedback has got to be helpful, from a writing perspective, but it also allows for things like characters getting cut because nobody liked them for some dumb reason. BUT, if you’re fighting to stay on the air for 100 episodes or longer, responding to fan reactions is what’s gonna do it and that’s a fact.
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We’re All Monsters
destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster. 
for @beingforcedtolivebadwriting
RATED M 
read it on ao3 here:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Dean Winchester knows he hates monsters.
That’s one thing. It’s almost the first thing. In almost every situation.
Dean wakes up and all he can think of is how much he hates monsters.
Some of it comes from the fact that John is a shitty dad and that’s not because of him being a shitty dad. Dean can’t remember much at all from his life before the fire, but from what John tells him, they were The Perfect American Family. He knows that at least.
He also knows that because monsters fucked that dynamic up for his family, he hates them unconditionally.
None of that has been truer than how he feels tonight. Tonight, his hands are still shifty on the wheel of the Impala, tonight his feet are still struggling to reach the brake pedal without stretching, and tonight the sky is pitch black and the air is warm and humid, and tonight he’s gonna kill some monsters.
Well. Maybe not.
John’s instructions were to stop by (by which he means break in) the morgue, take an extra look at the bodies, and identify any marks that stand out for a tell of what kind of son of a bitch they were dealing with.
John usually does this himself, but Dean thought it best to not bring up the fact that his dad needs to drink himself to blissful unconsciousness on the week of the anniversary of his dead wife. The case was bad timing, thus, Dean is the lucky pick to do the dirty work.
Not that he minds. This is something he wants to do. This is something he craves. Dean has been getting taller and bigger and stronger, and his hands have been itching more, and he can’t stop shifting his weight, and lately he feels like doing something that will fully transition him into the man he’s supposed to be. Except all he knows is John, and John is a hunter.
But Dean doesn’t mind. He’s good with a gun, and he’s a quick runner (he would have joined the track team if John had let them stay past Christmas break at his last school), and if that’s all he’s got, he’ll use it to do something. He’ll figure it out.
He’d way prefer to risk himself getting arrested, and going to juvie (again), than Sammy. Sammy, who’s back at the motel. Sammy who’s hopefully, peacefully sleeping. Sammy, who he hopes won’t be awake to see John come back from the bar. Dean intends to make it back before that. It’s only 11pm. He’s got time.
Dean parks the Impala (he only struggles for a few seconds with it, alright) a couple blocks down from the police station. His shoulders crowd up around his ears, cotton of his sweatshirt brushing his jaw, as he walks, as silent as he can, between the shadows of the decorative trees in this stupid suburb, to the back of the station.
He’s already scouted the place earlier in the day, so he knows which window leads to the desired formaldehyde smelling room. The station is only one story high, so he’s easily able to unlatch the outside lock with his pocket knife, and heave himself up. He shimmies himself in (fuck, that window’s tight) and ends up doing a supported handstand on the morgue floor. He throws his legs to the side--only hurting his ankles a little on the edge of the window--and then he’s finally got both his feet on the ground.
Dean stands up from his crouch, slowly. Then he scoffs to himself. Who the fuck is gonna hear him in here?
He moves closer to where the target is. There’s a sleek metal table in front of him, and yes, there’s a dead person on it, covered by a thin white sheet. Dean searches for gloves in the dark, because he’s a teenage boy but he’s not that gross, and he snaps them on, pulling back the sheet and averting his eyes from the corpse’s face. He goes straight to where the money is.
At the junction between the corpse’s shoulder and jaw, right in the middle of the neck, there’s a big bite. It’s not anything his dad has seen before, as he kept complaining so much since they found the case, and Dean has to swallow back bile at how ugly it looks. Black and protruded, half scaly-like, half-raw ripped skin, at least under the moonlight coming from the window. He should have brought a flashlight.
Dean is cataloging the patterns to draw for his dad later, tracing his fingers over the lines carefully, really feeling the texture and the way it’s swollen the skin. He thinks he imagines the sound at first.
Then he stops his hand, and he thinks again.
That’s definitely a sound. Like a real movement that wasn’t him, and it’s coming—it came at least—from the room right next door, the main storage for the other bodies. Dean turns his head to look at the door, and oh, would you look at that, it’s peeking open to more darkness on the other side. Where the sound came from. Except how is there a sound at a morgue in the dead of night?
Dean was not prepared for this. His heartbeat starts announcing itself in his ears, and he’s almost vibrating with fear. He thinks of his dad. What would John do at a time like this? Probably start shooting.
But Dean didn’t have a gun. Even if he did, it could just be the doctor, or a policeman staying after (they always got in his way), and he can’t go around shooting random people. It’s hard to explain to a dead person: “Hey! Sorry! Thought you were a monster! My bad!”
Then he remembers his pocket knife, whips it out, and holds it tight in his right fist. Dean starts walking towards the door, but he wants to knock the whole wall down and skeet the fuck out of there.
He holds his breath as he gently kicks the door with the tip of his boot (he figured out a way to make Sam convince John to get him new ones, and yeah, these loggers are pretty fucking cool), and then he’s in the room.
The first thing he notices when his eyes adjust to how dark it is in there (honestly, would it kill a monster to turn on a light?), is the two figures bent over what he assumes is another poor corpse being taken advantage of. He also hears… ew. Those are chomping and chewing noises. He never gets the clean ones.
Dean doesn’t know what to do! Does he shout? Scare them? Lunge at them? Anything he does next could be the last thing he does. Is he ready to die?
Luckily, Dean doesn’t have to decide his first move because the figures do it for him.
It happens too fast—and maybe he’s reading too many comics because his first thought is I wish I had super speed like Barry so I could gank these fuckers, except he doesn’t, so it’s fast.
He’s on his back in a blink. There’s a bony arm on his neck and another holding one of his wrists in a grip so tight Dean wants to make a eulogy for his circulation. There’s also a normal-ish weight on his hips and his stomach, which suddenly lurches because fuck. Fuck. The monster’s on him, he’s pinned. And for some reason he’s still alive.
Still. Fuck.
After a moment of heaving breathing from the guy on top of him, the figure lurking around, and his own wheezing lungs, Dean grunts out: “You guys gonna eat me or what?”
The guy above him doesn’t let up, but Dean does feel the other one walking around. Like the ground shakes with his every step as he comes closer to Dean’s ears near the floor.
“Personally,” says Figure 2 from way above him, and Dean feels disoriented at how far away his voice sounds, “I’m fairly content. My son here, however… well, he’s just famished.”
Dean’s eyes flick to the guy on him, trying to make out his features but it’s just too dark, and all he can feel is the terribly tight grip on his wrist, the way his forearm is crushing on his neck, and—hey. His pocket knife is still in his hand. His free hand, the one trapped under the small of his back, where he can feel the butt of the handle digging into his skin slightly.
“Go on, son.”
Figure 1, aka The Son, seems to be hesitating, and Dean doesn’t want to wait till he decides if he wants more salt on him or not before the meal, so he wriggles his hand out, and drives it across his body and downwards in a surprisingly strong stroke. He knows he hit something when the arms on top of him lift up entirely, and there’s a pained groan resounding amid the darkness.
He rolls on his side, scrambles up, and flies out of the room, back into the main morgue lab, through the door, down and down the long hallway, past the reception desk, and he’s out the main entrance, not caring one bit about the obnoxious ringing of the alarm behind him.
His calves are burning by the time he throws himself in the Impala, and he clumsily fishes out his dad’s keys, turning the car on. He drives 50 above the speed limit until he gets to the motel.
Dean tells John everything. He draws what he remembers with shaky hands. He neglects to mention how many of them there were.
<15 years later>
“And then, like a fucking Clint Eastwood movie, he comes back home--”
“You mean the motel?” Sam interrupts.
“Yeah, whatever. So he barges in the door--” Dean frames a rectangle with his hands “--silhouetted by the moonlight, and he tucks his gun in and he swings his dirty machete over his shoulder and he tilts his head and then he says: ‘Boy, pack your stuff. Our job here is done.’ I mean… it was fucking awesome,” Dean chuckles.
“I think your memory is unreliable.”
“Sam, you were dead to the world that night. On my bed, might I add, so you didn’t even see any of this. John kicked ass!”
Eileen’s smile is a little forced, and a little awkward, but Dean can’t blame her. His energy is hard to match when he’s a few beers in. Sam keeps eyeing her, like he's checking in on how she’s receiving this story about their dad. Like she would ever judge him for it.
“He sounds like a brave hunter,” she signs and says. Dean feels way too proud.
Sam tries and fails to keep the grimace off his face. “Yeah. Babe, is it late? We should…” he trails off, tilting his head in the direction of their bedrooms. Eileen nods in agreement, seeming relieved. She squeezes Dean’s hands as she leaves. Sam is standing now, and he waits until Eileen is gone to turn his bitchface on.
“Dean, please stop doing that.”
Dean furrows his eyebrows. “Doing what?”
Sam sighs, exasperated. “Praising dad. I don’t know, sugarcoating him, painting him as the hero. You know damn well he wasn’t.”
Dean’s throat tightens. If that’s what Sam thinks he was doing, he really doesn’t know him at all. He's full of indignation when he answers: “That’s the last thing that I would do. I know firsthand, more than you, how shitty John was. Sam, I know. I was telling the story how I remembered it. ‘Cause back then? Yeah, he was my hero. I’m old enough to know better now, but--what the fuck do you care? You think I’m purposely lying to Eileen? For what?”
Sam can’t meet his eyes. “Dean, no that’s not what I-I just can’t hear that shit. It makes me… uncomfortable. I don’t wanna talk about dad like that anymore. I'd rather not talk about him at all, actually! I just… I can’t hear that shit from you.”
Dean balks, mouth open. He scoffs, “Fine.” He stands up and puts his jacket back on, checking his pockets for his keys and his wallet.
He’s halfway up the stairs when Sam calls from the library, “Dean, come on. Let’s talk about this. Or not! Dude, we just got back from a hunt, don’t leave. Let just-let’s forget about it, alright?”
Dean pauses at the railing. He turns around and shouts down at Sam: “Yeah, sure, Sammy! Let's forget our whole heritage. It never fucking mattered to you anyways.”
He’s slamming the door to the bunker closed behind him, and hopping in the Impala (which he didn’t have time to wash or put in the garage since their hunt), and then he’s off god knows where. He needs a drink.
Dean picks the fourth bar/restaurant place he sees. That seems like far enough away from his brother for now. It’s one he hasn’t gone to yet. Fun, new, and exciting!
He’s working on his third whiskey, maybe half an hour after he arrived, when the bartender puts down another glass in front of him.
Dean glances up. “Hey, um. I’m good for now, really.”
The bartender is tying his long cornrows in a ponytail on the back of his head, and when he meets Dean’s eyes, he gives him a shit-eating grin. He nods off to the side, “Courtesy of your secret admirer.” Then he winks at him and leaves for the kitchen behind him. Dean feels all warm inside at that, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it before a man sits down on the stool next to him, a non-respectable four inch distance away.
Dean is appalled before he takes in this dude, and okay. Not bad. Looks about the same age, dresses like a grandpa from the trenchcoat he sees, has spiky black hair that Dean might want to run his hands through, and shit, fuck, he’s looking at Dean, say something!
“Hello,” the man says and whoa, who died and made you Batman? His lips are plumper than a guy’s lips usually are (look who’s talking, Dean) and chapped and they’ve got a nice shape. Dean likes the cupid’s arch on his upper lip, it looks classy. His nose is pointy, and maybe a bit small, but damn if it doesn’t work well with his sharp cheekbones. By the time Dean can register his eyes, all his brain can think of is wow.
Dean’s never seen bluer eyes. They’re as clear as the sky, but Dean feels like he could drown in them. Or maybe that’s just the way this man is looking at him. Dean’s rarely been stared at with this much intensity, and he feels a blush spread to the tips of his hot ears.
He clears his throat. “Hi.” Dean has to look away now, back to his own glass before he combusts. He’s surprised a dude like him would buy him a drink.
Apparently, the man can’t sense how awkward and unprepared Dean was for this because he starts talking again, keeping his voice low so that only Dean can hear him, so it’s only a rumble in his chest. “I hope I’m not overstepping. You looked like you needed some company. Is that the kind you like to drink?”
Dean is so flustered at the sheer… whatever this dude has, he has to remind himself this is a normal human interaction. Be nice. Make eye contact.
“Yeah, it’s uh--it’s great. Thanks. For buying it. Um, I’m kinda driving tonight, though, so I might want to stop at this--” Dean raises his own drink in his hand “--You can-you want it? I'd be a waste otherwise.” He’s cringing so bad inside that his stomach hurts.
The man levels him a neutral stare. A few seconds later, he nods and reaches over to pick up the extra whiskey. Dean follows his hands and fuck they’re nice. He’s got long fingers, and for some reason the way his metacarpals shift under his skin is incredibly attractive.
The fun doesn’t stop there though, because then the guy is bringing the glass to his mouth, and he’s not taking his eyes off Dean’s own wide ones, and he’s taking a drink and it all looks sinful. The way his trachea shifts as he swallows, the opening and closing of his enticing jaw, and especially the way his pink tongue peeks out from his mouth to lick at the rim of the glass.
Dean swallows what feels like sandpaper.
“My name is Castiel,” he says, putting the glass down, holding it between his hands like he's bracketing it. He shifts his hands and the glass follows, rotating back and forth.
“Dean.”
Castiel nods, his lips quirk up a little, and this might be the first sort-of smile Dean has seen from him.
“Why’d you buy me a drink?” he blurts out.
The grin grows by a millimeter. “You looked like you needed one.”
Dean snorts. “That bad, huh?”
“Maybe that good.” Dean sees a peek of teeth from Castiel and he can’t help but shiver.
Dean recognizes it for what it is, so he turns on his own charm, slipping into familiar flirting territory.
“So what do you do, Castiel?”
Castiel’s eyes flick to Dean’s mouth for the quickest moment, and then his mouth is a neutral plane again, smirk vanishing completely. He thinks for a few seconds. “I’m an accountant.”
Dean knows that could mean literally anything, except the guy is wearing a tie and there’s a trenchcoat, so yeah. He’s an accountant for real.
“Cool. Numbers, huh?”
Castiel narrows his eyes, like he’s squinting. Dean finds it both intimidating and endearing. “Yes. How about you, Dean?”
He blushes harder at hearing his name in that gravelly voice, but keeps his cool when he answers, rehearsed: “Odd jobs, here and there.”
Castiel doesn’t miss a beat. “Fascinating.”
Dean blinks. Okay. “Is it?”
“Yes. You must travel a lot.”
“I do, yeah,” he nods, feeling a little vulnerable.
Castiel is back to staring at him intensely, and it makes Dean’s veins sizzle a little with want. They’re upgrading from Flirting/Small Talk Territory to Let’s Go Like Now Territory. Dean’s breathing comes a little deeper.
“Would you like to travel right now?”
“What?”
Castiel is definitely looking at his mouth. “Would you like to go outside?”
Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. This guy does not waste time. Not that he’s complaining, he’s been feeling hot all over since Castiel sat down, and he’d give himself at most another half an hour before he proposed they move this interaction somewhere else himself. So Dean downs the rest of his whiskey, feels the buzz in his ears and the tips of his fingers, and he stands up. “Let’s go.”
Castiel follows him outside.
The night is more humid than it should be for August, but Dean can feel the chill of Fall coming, and he’s grateful for his jacket. He’s shoved his hands in his jean pockets as he walks to the corner where the sidewall of the bar meets the front wall of it. He stops and leans one shoulder right at the edge of the wall to the side, facing the parking lot. Out of options for what to say, Dean waits until Castiel comes closer (his hands are in his trench coat pockets and it’s weirdly cute), and he points at his Baby, thirty feet away.
“That’s my car. She’s my Baby.”
Castiel stops two feet away from him, but right in front, and he turns his body to the side to follow where Dean’s finger points. He stares at the Impala for a bit, before he turns his head to Dean again. The light coming from inside the restaurant is what brightens Castiel’s face and Dean is a little breathless as he admires his illuminated features.
“She’s very beautiful.”
Dean smiles, proud and sheepish. “Thanks. Um, what about yours?”
Castiel inhales, taken aback. “Oh. I didn’t drive here tonight. I like walking.” he says slowly.
“Oh, okay.” Dean answers stupidly. It’s not that he’s disappointed they can’t talk about cars, it’s just… what else are they supposed to talk about at a moment like this?
“So what brought you here tonight, Cas?” Dean doesn’t catch himself in time, and the nickname is out. Oops. Castiel seems to inflate a little in response though, so he’s fine. For now.
“Rough day.” He says, then like an afterthought he adds, “At work.”
This dude is so fucking weird. Dean is obsessed with him.
Suddenly, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, he just wants to take what Castiel offered. He’s been wanting to taste him since he looked at his lips, so he smirks at Castiel and he asks, “Come here, Cas.”
For a moment Castiel tilts his head, and Dean can’t figure him out, and he kinda loves that, the anticipation of not knowing what this guy is gonna do or who he is. Dean beckons him with a hand. He’s drunk enough on the beers from earlier and the whiskey and the adrenaline drop from the finished hunt that he’s allowing himself this tonight. A little recklessness can’t hurt.
Castiel walks closer than Dean expected him to, and Dean turns to press his back to the side wall, his shoulder barely off the edge where the front and side connect. Castiel follows the twist of his body perfectly because suddenly he’s crowding Dean against the small space with his hands on either side of his head on the wall. Their faces are mere inches apart.
Dean loves the way the air shifts then, like someone pulled a lever down and the current of electricity started running. They’re breathing each other’s air, and Castiel’s eyes are glued to Dean’s mouth, while Dean alternates his staring between Castiel’s darkened eyes and those chapped lips. Dean feels like he's vibrating.
He forces his hands to unfreeze and brush the trench coat flaps aside, coming to rest on top of Castiel’s hips, over his belt. This moves their bodies closer still, Dean subconsciously opening his legs wider to let Castiel slot a knee in between them. Their hips press, Dean shivers, and then he shivers even more when he feels Castiel’s lips pressing against his.
It’s exactly like he imagined, except it’s about a thousand times better. Castiel’s lips are soft and pliant, and he presses brushing kisses and pecks Dean’s lips for a bit, leaving them tingling for more, until he starts to really get into it. Castiel softly clamps his mouth around Dean’s bottom lip and he pulls back, and Dean is so fucked. He tries to keep his knees from wobbling, and then he gets what he wants when Castiel presses forward again, kissing him open mouthed, and there is his tongue, and it tastes really sweet and Dean feels positively intoxicated.
He can’t remember when he closed his eyes, but there are fireworks exploding behind them, and his dick is saying “Hell, yeah!” and he’s tilting his head to kiss Castiel deeper, chasing more of his mouth and his taste and his smell. His hands are gripping Castiel’s hips in a vice.
Dean can’t help the moan he lets out when Castiel’s tongue does a thing, and he also can’t help his surprise when Castiel pulls back abruptly after the sound has registered. His shock is almost overshadowed by the crude things his brain is thinking when he takes in Castiel, whose lips are shiny and wet, and whose pupils are enormous.
Dean holds his breath, furrows his eyebrows, and waits. Castiel is looking at him, pained.
“Dean, I can’t,” he whispers.
There is a moment, and then Dean blinks, understanding everything. He’s a little upset, but mostly embarrassed, except his brain can’t fully express that, so it’s put through a well-oiled machine that converts it into anger. Now, that he can do.
He’s pushing Castiel off him, walking five steps away then pivoting and walking back. He repeats this path, running a hand down his face as Castiel just fucking stands there, looking at him sadly.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean bites out.
“Dean, I can-” Casties tries.
“No, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he whirls around to stare right at Castiel a few feet away. Castiel’s shoulders fall and it enrages Dean even more.
“You know what, Cas? Go fuck yourself. You got some issues to figure out, and it’s not gonna be with me. Go to hell, asshole.” Dean spits out, fixing Castiel with a furious stare, feeling his jaw tick in anger, and then he’s stomping away.
As he gets closer to the Impala, he crosses his arms, feeling indignation constrict his chest. This is not the first time this has happened with Dean and unfortunately, he thinks it probably won’t be the last.
Damn it. A guy like that? Probably has a pretty little wife, probably hides his wedding band right in his front pocket, which Dean completely skipped on his way to grab at Castiel’s ass. He groans internally as he rounds the back of the car till he reaches the driver’s door. He’s going home with the worst case of blue balls he’s ever had.
“I’m sorry, Dean.” He hears as he fishes out his keys and puts the right one in the slot to unlock the door, and hey, Castiel’s voice is much closer than he expected, but Dean doesn’t have time to turn around and yell at him some more because suddenly the ground is completely gone from under his feet. Dean’s vision goes blinding white, and then pitch black.
The pain finally registers on the back of his head, and the last thing he sees before he's out, is the key chain dangling from the lock on the Impala’s door.
****
The world slowly slots back together as Dean wakes up. There’s four, then three, then two, and then it all merges into one again. Dean acutely feels the pouding in his head.
He’s… laying down? Yeah, he’s on a bed. The mattress is nice. There's even a thin blanket on top of him, dark grey. He turns his head to the side-nope, that’s a wall-tries the other side and okay good, there’s the rest of the room. He feels a little less claustrophobic now that he’s seen the whole space. It’s dark just because the lights are off. It looks like a normal basement, unfinished ceiling and all, with boxes stacked in the corner covering a whole wall. There’s a couch facing him, parallel to the bed, and there’s a figure sitting there. Dean eyes his phone, wallet, car keys, and pocket knife on a night stand next to the bed. It’s just out of his reach.
He pinches his eyes shut, wiggles his toes in his boots (no brain damage done, yay), and then he groans out: “What can I do for ya, Mr. Monster?”
When he opens his eyes, Castiel has turned one of the overhead light bulbs on. He looks serious.
“Firstly, I want to apologize, Dean. I didn’t want to have to do this, and I didn’t plan for it.”
Dean is more than confused. “What.”
Castiel stands up from his couch, he’s only in his suit now, tie loosened, and damn Dean’s stupid (probably concussed) brain, but he still looks yummy. Monster, Dean. Focus.
Castiel crosses his arms, and plants his feet. He keeps a very respectable distance away from the bed, and Dean’s gut twists at the thought that he was playing him all along.
“I didn’t… want to seduce you. I just wanted to talk. I might have derailed from my plan slightly.”
Dean’s jaw ticks. “And what was that amazing plan of yours, Castiel? If that’s your real name.”
Castiel narrows his eyes at Dean’s tone. He huffs a breath out his nose, frowning.
“You know, Dean, you may not remember me, but I remember you. Fifteen years ago, your father killed my father, and I’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since.”
“Son of a bitch,” Dean breaths out after a few seconds of stunned silence, propping himself up to fully sit up on the bed. He feels his bruised brain click things together. “You’re the second one. You survived.”
Castiel is silent, and that’s all the confirmation Dean needs to know he was pinned down by this guy way before tonight.
Dean laughs. “What kind of fucked up revenge plot is this? You’ve been stalking me for years? Well, then you must know my father died of alcohol poisoning almost a decade ago. It was ugly and painful, and you missed your chance, asshole.”
Castiel rolls his eyes. “Dean,” he says sternly, “I didn’t want to kill your father. And I don’t want to kill you. That’s not why I ended up kidnapping you tonight. I’m grateful for what your father did for me.”
Dean does a double take, swings his feet off the bed and onto the ground. “You’re what?”
“This may come as a surprise, but not every monster is a monster. Not fully, anyway. I’m half-human. And I need your help to go all the way.”
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tibbinswrites · 4 years
Note
Hi x could you do #327 for canon destiel please? Btw I love your work, you wright so eloquently x
You’re so sweet! Thank you! Sorry it’s taken me so long. I wasn’t sure what to do for this one, but then I was re-organising my fanfic folder and came across a wip that I’d started ages ago but never got around to making something out of it. And with a little tweaking, seemed to fit the prompt pretty well :D I hope you like it.
I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #20, #33, #77, #78, #170 (part 1), (part 2), #327 and #502 and I’ve got a possible part 3 of #170 pending. I’m not accepting any more prompts at the moment.
Also, just in case you hadn’t heard already, I’m part of an incredible destiel anthology. Our indegogo page is live here and there are tiers ranging from simply gorgeous PDF copies and all the podfics to beautiful print books and a bunch of other merch like bookmarks and art prints. We’re at an amazing 78% funded already! Check it out.
Warning for mentions of torture (hell flashback)
Enjoy ^_^
Prompt 327: “I could hear you… breathing.”
Dean woke gasping, sweat-soaked and tangled in his sheets. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, a few more for his eyes to adjust to the near-black, and almost a full minute after that for the thumping of his heart to slow and his breathing to calm.
Just a nightmare.
He was used to waking up like this, but the Déjà vu didn’t make it any easier. Sure, he could joke about it in the daylight, be cavalier or even talk seriously about the fact that his nightmares were a regular occurrence if there was a need, but in the dark, with his dream still blurring the edges of his vision, it was impossible to be anything other than afraid.
When the fear faded as the familiar shapes of his room began to emerge from the gloom, he was left with an even more familiar frustration. He hated that Alastair still had sway over him. The demon had been dead for over ten years but his skin still rippled with cold dread whenever his mind wandered in that particular downwards direction. In some ways Dean had never left Hell, in some ways, Alastair had won and even after all these years, that rankled on him in a way that few things did.
He tried to kick off the sheets but on discovering that they’d wrapped around his ankle had to reach down and yank them from him with his hands, grumbling at the extra inconvenience. He stripped the bed without needing to turn on the light, this was a common enough occurrence that he had the process down. Bare duvet and pillows in one pile, gross bottom sheet, pillow cases and duvet cover in another. According to his blinking alarm clock it was almost five am anyway, he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight. He braced himself and then switched on his bedside lamp, sucking in a breath through his teeth as the too-bright, too-sudden light stabbed into his retinas, ruining his night vision. He squinted for a few moments until he could blink without it feeling like the beginnings of a headache and then set about re-making the bed with fresh sheets, tucking in the corners military-tight, fluffing the pillows before placing them perfectly. When he was done, his bed looked like it had never been slept in.
He dropped the soiled sheets into his hamper and then headed to shower; his skin was oily with drying sweat and as it cooled it only made him shiver, the kind of shaky that travelled through muscles and up into the head, that wouldn’t go away unless he scrubbed off all evidence that anything was wrong.
Once in the bathroom he yanked off his clothes, left them in a damp pile by the door and twisted the shower knob on.
The spray was icy when it when hit him but warmed quickly and soon it was at that perfect temperature just over the line of scalding. He stopped shivering and let the water relax him, making sure to jerk his brain back if it threatened to wander to the reason he was taking a shower at five in the morning, to the clammy hands he still felt the imprints of, the nasal voice, those cold eyes alight with malice, delight at his pain, that face he will never forget.
He took a deep breath to steady himself, his stomach twisting unpleasantly, and almost choked on water.
“Are you thirsty, Dean?” Alastair taunted, holding his head under a spray of liquid. And Dean was, he was parched, he hadn’t had anything to drink in more than twenty years and Hell never let him forget it. So he opened his mouth, because that was the game, and the water burned like acid.
Dean yanked his head back from the spray, spluttering, choking, burning. And it didn’t matter that he knew he was safe, that the water was only not, not actually painful, that he was in the bunker and Sam was just down the hall, he stumbled from the shower, naked and dripping and definitely not clean yet, to hunch over the toilet bowl and retch until his stomach was empty. Of course the acid in his throat didn’t help that particular memory to face but once he was done he felt better. The remainder of his shower was embarrassingly rushed and tepid and he stepped out, rubbed himself with a towel and tried not to think. He brushed his teeth with a little more force than necessary and gargled some mouthwash, all the while avoiding his reflection in the mirror. When he left the bathroom he dressed quickly. There was no point hanging around his room. Staring blankly at a wall wouldn’t exactly help the shadows retreat.
He opened the door to find Cas leaning against the wall opposite. He straightened when he saw Dean, and Dean was tempted to just close the door again. Instead he sighed and stepped out into the chilly hallway.
“Let me guess,” Dean said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. “Just passing by?”
“No.” Cas said, as blunt as ever. “I felt your distress.”
Well that was embarrassing. He rubbed at the back of his neck before folding his arms. It had been a long time since he’d had a nightmare that bad.
“So you thought you’d just… hang out here?”
“I could hear you… breathing,” Cas said with a slight cough that translated ‘breathing’ into ‘violently throwing up’. “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”
“You wouldn’t’ve been,” was Dean’s immediate response, though some of the unease in his gut had lessened. Seeing Cas there calmed him, and Alastair’s voice retreated back to the box it usually lived in.
Cas nodded like he expected as much. “I figured you were still in my radius nonetheless.”
“Your… what?”
Cas’ lips jumped up at the edges a little, the way they did when Dean showed his ignorance about angels, despite living with one. Dean was still too raw from his nightmare to get pissy about it. It was nice just to see Cas smile.
“My radius. All angels have a—I suppose you could say—calming presence.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, mouth curling into a smirk of his own. “Bullshit.”
Cas shrugged. “It’s mostly only effective on the unconscious,” he paused, fighting another smile, “or the weak-willed.”
“Hey!”
Cas’ laugh was soft, only barely hitting the tiles so it wrapped around the two of them but went no further. Suddenly, Dean felt a little less cold. “Humans tend not to have room for it when they’re awake. Your minds are always so busy that an outside influence is easily disregarded.”
“You sayin’ I don’t have much goin’ on upstairs?” Dean asked, trying to sound offended but knew that the smile on his face was giving him away. God, how could he feel anything other than fond with Cas standing there all straight lines and strong shoulders, his eyes gentle as sunrise? Maybe Cas was right, with Cas taking up more than half his senses, there was just no room left for the fear stuck to him. He felt it slide off and for once, didn’t worry about it coming back.
“No. I’m saying that if it works—if it’s working now—it’s because you’re letting it, because trust me.”
Dean stepped forward, and didn’t think about it too much when he stepped in close and let his hands curve around Cas’ waist to rest at the base of his spine. He dropped his head to rest it in the crook of Cas’ neck and breathed deeply.
“Well that’s true enough,” he murmured.
If Cas was surprised, he didn’t show it. His own arms came up to hold Dean tight and they just stood there. There was no expectation in the embrace, though perhaps there should have been. Nor were there nerves, though there definitely should have been. It was just… easy, in the way that things between them never were. It was comfort and accepting comfort and Dean felt that this moment, while it might not change anything between them, was important. That maybe it wasn’t anything between them that needed to change, but something inside Dean that just had.
And while he wasn’t quite ready to delve head first into it yet, with his bare feet on the icy tile, Cas’ warmth and scent and feeling of home surrounding the rest of him, the remnants of a nightmare trickling from his bloodstream, Dean was pretty sure that Cas wouldn’t have to wait much longer.
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heythrrdelilah · 4 years
Text
In the Dark (Sam Winchester x Reader) Chapter 4
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Warnings: Violence, fluff, food, mention of sex, tension
Word Count: 3,647
A/N: I’m sorry this took so long, I’ve been extremely busy and let this fic slip past me. I hope this chapter makes up for it. I am always open to suggestions on how to improve or ideas for the future, just send them in the ask and for which fic! I do throw in some stuff for Dean lovers here and there too. 
Chapter 3 can be found here
Chapter 4
“Wow,” You gloomily replied, “I’m sorry to hear about your parents. I could never imagine watching your brother go through all of that or even what you have been through, all these years.” He half smiled in response, “It’s not so bad. You learn to appreciate the things going right for you.” His words were wise. You often lived by that statement, coming from a bad background yourself. You nod and move to look out to the balcony. The view from your room wasn’t great but it was still breathtaking. You opened the glass sliding door and peered out at the mountains. The night sky met the snowy peaks,  along with lights from the skii lodge. It looked like a scene from a movie. 
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You finally speak with a sigh. You felt a fabric being placed gently over your shoulders. You looked down to see Sam had placed your jacket around you. He seemed too sweet for this line of work. Hunters normally have a cold breeze in their gaze,  a glimmer of loss. Sams stare felt warm. So warm,  in fact,  that you weren’t able to feel the brisk winter night outside just by looking at him. Your statement seemed to take him by surprise in the silence,  "uh-oh… the view. Yeah.“ He looked out to the mountains,  then back at you. "I’m really sorry about Dean,” He spoke placing an arm against the opening of the door. You shook your head,  “Sam,  you’re not responsible for his behavior. He’s actually acting pretty normal for a hunter. I mean,  come on,  I’m solo. Even if he weren’t acting like every other big headed hunter who thinks he’s responsible to be the world’s savior, I presume,  it’s not on you. Shake the weight off.” You nudge his side,  laughing and shaking your arms. He looked down at you and chuckled. “You’re cute, ” He spat out without hesitation. Your eyes widened for a moment before you looked back to the mountains, “Not so bad yourself Winchester." 
The next moment happened so quickly,  that you weren’t even fully conscious of the situation as it was happening. Sam’s lips were soft to pair with the lingering flavor of a vanilla latte. It felt as if the pair of lips against yours,  fit like a puzzle piece. However,  after a few short,  too short,  seconds,  Sam’s lips were pulled away,  but the ghost touch had lasted a few seconds more. The look in his eyes were apologetic. "I’m sorry. You seem like a careful person and I didn’t mean to break a boundary. I usually don’t do… that. We just met. I’m-” You cut off his rambling with a tug on his shirt. Him being taller than you,  you had to have him lean down and what better way than to pull his shirt?  You placed a gentle peck on his cheek,  closed the sliding glass door,  and turned the TV on in the room.  
“No worries.  I don’t normally kiss back. Guess you have an effect on me, ” Did you admit that out loud?  What had gotten into you?  Too late now,  you thought to yourself,  might as well embrace it. He chuckled,  sitting on your bed,  "yeah… I would have to say the same.“ You flipped through the TV,  trying to ignore any awkward silence. Nothing was on. Hunters come and go. Always on the move. Even if you did act on your sudden liking to Sam,  he would be gone after this job. You have heard of the infamous Winchester brothers before, any hunter who hadn’t would be lying. They have saved the world several times and are humble about doing so. For you to be on a case with the Winchesters was intimidating,  but it was only for a short time. You had to remember that before allowing this crush to form into something deeper. “Y/N, I think I’m going to go back to my room. Meet downstairs for some coffee in the morning?” Sam asked, pushing himself off of your bed and making his way to the door. You nod once, then return back to flipping through channels. It must have been late,  because of the fact that only one channel was not running infomercials,  but it was Gilmore Girl Reruns. 
Just as the episode was halfway through, a knock came on your hotel door. You walked over and opened to a nervous Sam. "So,  Dean found company and locked me out of our room,” He was scratching his neck,  chuckling nervously. You stepped to the side,  allowing him an entry and closed the door behind the both of you.  "You can have the bed,  just give me a pillow and the comforter, “ You reached for the pillow and placed it on the floor. He shook his head,  "no. That’s not very gentlemanly of me. I’ll take the floor.” You flicked your brow at him,  "I offered. So take the bed,“ You demanded. He raised his hands up in defeat.  "Can we change the show though? I don’t really care for the Gilmore clan,” He reached for the remote but you snatched it off of the bed first.  
You looked between the tv and him.  This is the episode Dean and Rory are fighting over the fact Dean likes the idea of a house wife. You saw a shocking resemblance between Sam and this Dean character. You paused the cable TV. “Sam,  is it because you kind of look like the Dean character?” You teased making a fake pout. He shook his head,  rolling his eyes,  "no I don’t now give me that.“ He reached for the remote but you pulled it away quickly,  pointing at the screen. "Yeah I think you’re right,  Dean character is cuter, ” You teased, smiling with raised eyebrows. He reached for the remote and you turned to have your back facing him. He reached around you,  his muscular arms almost wrapped completely around your torso,  which meant he was leaning over. He grabbed the remote from your grip but wrapped his arms around you anyways. 
As quickly as they were placed there,  they were removed,  though you wish they weren’t. “Uh,  I’m going to shower. Change the channel. I’ll even pay for something On Demand,” You quickly moved to your bags and pulled out your makeup baf that held your face wash,  toothbrush,  toothpaste,  and makeup. Then you pulled out your fuzzy pajama pants and oversized T-shirt. You rushed to the bathroom and locked the door. You leaned your back against the door and starred up to the ceiling,  remembering the warm embrace that was just upon you. 
Your stomach fluttered and you attempted to physically shake that feeling off. Sam made you nervous,  which meant you were vulnerable. To a complete stranger. He was nice,  intelligent so far,  and extremely attractive. However,  yes,  he was a stranger. A stranger who you let sleep in your room. You weren’t sure if it was from the anger at yourself  or intrusively inappropriate thoughts that came along with Sam,  but you were heating up and needed to jump in the shower to cool off. 
Unlike most women,  you showered rather quickly. The washing your face time part took the longest, as you had a 7 step skincare routine. You cleaned up after yourself,  but left your skin care and make up bag in the bathroom,  before exiting. Sam was lounged on the bed watching Gilmore Girls, smart phone in hand. You gave him permission to shower and lay down on the floor,  snuggled into the blankets. After the long drive today, you fell asleep almost instantly. 
The next morning,  you woke up on the bed,  the sun shining bright in the room around you. You leaned across the bed and looked to the floor. Sam was passed out with only a pillow and his jacket as a blanket. You hopped out of bed and began your morning routine, quickly getting ready and changing into your pencil skirt and blazer. When you walked out of the bathroom, Sam had been standing by the balcony, stretching his long limbs. “Good morning. Why did you move me? Touching people in their sleep is kind of creepy, you know that right?” You walked over to your suitcase. He furrowed his brows, tilted his head like a puppy before understanding what you had meant. “I picked you up. You looked uncomfortable. Coffee?” He asked, placing his phone in his pocket. You nod, grabbing your phone, fake badge, and notepad placing them into your purse. 
When the two of you reached the lobby cafe,  you were engrossed in conversation about a previous demon hunt you experienced and hadn’t even noticed you were next in line. Talking to Sam was simply,  that easy. 
You ordered your black coffee and found a table in the corner of the room,  Sam close behind you with a box of pastries. You pulled your phone out and scrolled,  finding the names of the potential pack members. “Sammy,  where did you crash last night?  Impala?” Dean pats Sam’s back and sits in the chair next to Sam. He had a coffee in his hand. “Good morning,  no. (Y/N)  let me take the floor, ” Sam explained,  opening the pastry box. “I didn’t know what you like so I got one of everything. Muffins,  don-” His display was cut off by Dean snatching a donut out of the box,  chuckling loudly. He took a violent bite out of the lemon blazed donut and looked between the both of you,  laughing now. “What?” Sam asked,  picking up a banana nut muffin.  Dean laughed the entire donut away,  grabbed a chocolate cake donut,  and finally explained,  "I didn’t know Kim Possible here was the type. Atta boy Sam.“ Your brows raised in an instant.  You most definitely were not the type he was referring to. "Not like that. She wanted the floor,” Sam interjected,  pushing the pastry box towards you. You shook your head at the both of them,  "I’m going to interview the staff. Before I do so,  any insight from night crew, Dean? Other than your ..er..babysitter?“ He smirked for a moment and retorted,  "she say alright. Just not on a baby.” You stood up from the table as Sam let out a “gross,” Between muffin bites. 
“No. The chef at the rooftop resturaunt was mysteriously off of work a little early the night of the attack, though. Bet you didnt see that on the schedule?  Someone punched out for him.  Think you’re miss all that, still?” He smirked,  seemingly proud of himself. You rolled your eyes,  placed the glass mug on the return to kitchen rack,  and made your way to the rooftop resturaunt. 
The dining room was elegantly designed,  their awards tucked nearly in glass cases all around the round tables. A chandelier hanging from the middle of the room,  dim lighting even at this early time. You flashed your badge at the hostess and demanded to see the chef. You must have spoken a bit too loud however,  because you heard a scream come from the kitchen. You ran back,  grabbing a silver knife from a table along the way. The hostess stumbled behind you. You turned to the scared brunette and told her that the only way she could help is to get your partners from the cafe downstairs. 
There was no time to wait for the Winchesters,  you burst into the kitchen and saw the chef leaning over a bloody body. The sous chef. The man was large,  muscular,  and wearing a white chef coat. When he spotted you,  the anger in his eyes penetrated your soul. It was game on.  He lunged toward you,  pressing you against the wall. The force knocked the wind out of you,  but you held tight to the knife,  ready to swing,  but the wolf man behind him had other plans. You noticed it was the man you told Sam about last night. He was coming after you,  you were cornered. The door burst open once more and the two men that now appeared,  was a blessing. How they had gone to their car,  gotten their weapons,  and made there way up here this quick was shocking. 
With a loud bang,  the employee was down. You used your free leg,  grunting and using all your strength,  to kick the chef in the groin.  When he bent down you jammed the silver knife into his temporalis muscle,  right through the skull. He landed with q loud crash. The Winchester brothers stood back impressed with how quickly you managed to kill this beast. You shrugged,  wiping yourself off of dust and straightened your skirt. “Thanks for the help boys, ” You began grabbing the body by the wrists. The worst part about this job was the clean up,  well other than the telling families and seeing death parts. 
After the clean up,  you and the Winchesters were in the back alley of the resort,  leaned up against their Impala. “So,  you men off to save the world again or do you have time for another coffee?  I owe you one for saving me and I booked two nights because I didnt know how long it would take us,” You asked,  pushing yourself off of the car. The guys nodded and followed you back into the cafe,  where you ordered a coffee once more.
 "You should eat something,��� Sam motioned towards the box of pastries he bought again. You shook your head and sipped your coffee, ” Thanks but I’m good.“ Dean grunted,  rolling his eyes and grabbed the pumpkin spice donut from the box.  "So where are you off too? Im sure you Winchester guys have bigger fish to fry,” You sipped your coffee and watched as Sam placed a Nutella croissant on a napkin and place it in front of you. You left it in its place.  “Well,  we do normally. But we kind of saved the world for good now. So we are back to tiny hunter to keep us sane,” Dean explained,  grabbing a canole from the box. Dean seemed to finally be warming up to you. 
“So maybe we will catch you again on another hunt, ” Sam smiled warmly at the idea before biting into a blueberry lemon ginger muffin. Dean rolled his eyes,  “bro if you like her, I’m okay with, ” He was attempting to keep his voice low about it and failing. Sam began fidgeting with the muffin,  blushing nervously,  hoping you couldn’t hear his brother. Dean began,  "we can ask her if she wants to… Join the team for a bit.“ You couldn’t pretend you didn’t hear this any longer. Letting out a giggle and feeling your face burn red,  you responded,  "I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m also, a loner kind of girl.” Sam quickly interjected,  "no. I mean you wouldn’t be intruding.  Do you have a permanent home?  Where do you go if you can’t find cases? Blow your money on motels?“ 
He created a good argument,  "not exactly… my money. No,  I don’t have a permanent home and if there are no cases,  motel vacancies,  or money,  I sleep in my car. Old yeller and I ride well.” Sam shook his head in response,  he was chuckling so it definitely was not judgement. 
“We have a bunker. A home. We have plenty of rooms and it’s hidden,” Dean grunted showing that he was annoyed by the idea. You felt pretty overwhelmed and you had just met these guys.  However,  they did save your life and if they were going to harm you they would have done it already. 
After a long moment of silence,  you agreed to join them only after you got your money’s worth of the room tonight. “When’s the last time you boys had some innocent fun? Not bars or women?” The two men looked at each other dumbfounded and shrugged at you. You motioned for them to follow you as you stood up from the table. Sam gripped your wrist and pointed at the croissant,  “eat this and we have a deal.” You began to argue but he furrowed a brow to show how serious he was. 
You sat down at the table with a slight hint of attitude. You picked up the croissant and let the flavors of hazelnut and chocolate explode in your mouth. The buttery flakes of the croissant were the perfect mixture of flaky and doughy along with the chocolate-hazelnut ratio,  this was a perfect croissant. After you finished,  you felt extremely full,  but finished your coffee before standing up and ordering a to-go cup of coffee. 
“You are going to have a stomach issue if you don’t eat and only drink coffee. Take care of yourself so you don’t get medical bills in the future, ” Sam spoke concerned as you made your way to the front desk of the hotel. You flashed your badge to the clerk and leaned onto the counter,  acting exhausted,  "my partners and I have caught the perp, we were thinking about taking a break,  but saw the skiing guests and thought… “ You left a pause for the dark haired scrawny male behind the counter. Falling right into your trap, "let me see if we have three spots for full equipment rentals.” You turned to the shocked Winchesters and flicked a brow with a smirk as if bragging. the clerk frowned,  “I see that we don’t have any slope spots open today,  but we do have three full access spa spots,  let me see your badge or IDs and I’ll have them set up,  free of charge.” You smirked to the men as you all three placed your IDs on the counter. 
“Maybe I can get used to a chick riding along with us,” Dean laughed,  biting into a bagel from the box he was carrying around. “What?  You’re excited about the spa?  Isn’t it too… girly for a man of your taste?” You flicked a brow and walked over to the stairs.  "Well,  as long as you stick with us,  you’ll know Dean likes to take care of himself,“ Sam laughed,  pulling you to the elevator. 
The three of you separated into the two rooms and you changed into jeans,  a pink hoodie,  and sneakers. You then met the guys at the spa in time for your appointment. Sam and Dean were already in robes and slippers,  being entered into the hot tub room. After you checked in they entered you into a changing room with a private locker. You stripped into a robe and slippers then moved into the private hot tub waiting room. 
You dipped your feet into the not-too-hot tub and thought about today’s events. You had just agreed to join two male hunters in their private bunker. In any other context,  it would sound like your life was a true crime podcast. The fact you had a crush on Sam,  only made it worse. The night before,  you had counted on never seeing the Winchesters again to solve your feelings issue. That had no longer been the case since you agreed to stay with them. You either had to lose feelings or act on them. Despite what Dean had said,  the kiss last night,  you didn’t know for sure if Sam liked you. It was implied,  but uncertain. Your last relationship was your only one and you had only dated him because you didn’t want to reject him in front of his frat buddies. Curse your kind soul. 
Now that you actually had feelings for Sam,  you didn’t know how to act.  You looked to the roof and begged for a sign on what you do so that you could get this uncomfortable feeling out of the way.  
Just then a knock came on the door before a female spa assistant came in to assist you. "Your boyfriend requested for you to join him and his brother for the massage and facial,  is that okay?” You nearly chocked on your own spit at the use of the word “boyfriend” When referring to one of the Winchesters. Was that your sign?  Whatever, you thought to yourself,  you’ll take it as one.  You began to get out of the hot tub and follow the assistant into the dim lit room where Sam and Dean were face down already receiving their massage. You lay down,  place the towel over your bottom half,  and had the assistant help remove the robe. You turned your face to Sam,  "tell me why she called me your girlfriend?“ You laughed,  attempting to make a joke out of it. 
Sure,  you could have gone the rest of your life without mentioning it,  but with the sign,  you wanted to see his reaction. To confirm how he felt. He turned his face to you and half smiled.  He looked deep into your eyes,  his beautiful eyes were deeply searching your expression. He didn’t say anything at first,  which made you anxious at first. Did he think it was awkward?  Dean had headphones in that you could hear Metallica playing from across the room. It was an interesting choice of music for a relaxing massage. The point was,  he wouldn’t be able to hear a response and make fun of Sam,  so he had no excuse to worry about him. Other than Dean’s headphones and awkward sex-like grunts when the masseuse worked on him,  the room was pretty silent. 
You felt nervous and could hear your own heart racing as Sam stared into your eyes for what felt like an eternity. This kind of stuff only happens in the movies as far as you were aware. However,  as if his stares weren’t enough,  he answered your question with a soft but charming smile,  "is that so bad?”
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shirtlesssammy · 4 years
Text
6x10: Caged Heat
Then:
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Meet Crowley, King of Hell
Now:
Crowley is busy torturing...himself? Nope, it’s an Alpha Shifter. He informs Crowley that when he dies, he goes to Purgatory. Crowley wants more information. 
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Crowley’s holding a bunch of baby shifters for leverage on information about Purgatory’s location. The shifter won’t budge so Crowley chops his head off. 
At night, the Winchesters arrive at a factory to drop off one rugaru to a couple of demons. Dean asks about Crowley but they’re not on the Need to Know list. 
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Dean and Sam head back to their hide-a-way home. Dean is done dealing with demons, but Sam points out they don’t have any other plan. Dean wonders if Sam wants his soul back. Sam points out that he’s working for Crowley. Dean walks off to get some booze and when he turns to talk to Sam some more, Sam’s gone. He pulls his gun and wanders to a side room, where he finds Sam passed out on the floor. A demon comes behind Dean and knocks him out too. 
Cut to the boys tied up and Meg walking into the room. 
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She’s looking for Crowley. She holds a knife to Dean’s neck for information when Sam laughs (much to Dean’s stress) and realizes that she can’t kill them. She’s running from Crowley. Sam tells her that they’ll work with her to find Crowley but they want the first stab at him before she finishes him off. 
Once free, Dean is angry and asks Sam what the heck he’s doing making a deal with the demon that killed Ellen and Jo. Sam says they need her. Ah, soulless Sam is always the pragmatist. Sam assures Dean that they will kill Meg and her minions the first chance they get-- they’re bringing insurance. 
Later, Sam is outside, praying to Castiel. Cas doesn’t appear. He then starts describing the plot to Raiders. That Biblical artifact thirsty boy is there in a heartbeat. Sam wants Cas’s help but Cas is in the middle of things upstairs. Sam threatens to kill Cas if he doesn’t help them. 
Ahem, let’s all pause at Cas’s retort and bask in the pure BAMF energy.
“Will you...boy?”
Whew. 
Anywho. 
Sam does get Cas to come back to their place.
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Dean is surprised (ok, but like dude, if you really wanted him to show, why didn’t you pray? We’ve already seen him show when you pray to him. You don’t have a profound bond for nothing.)
Cas performs a locating spell, but it doesn’t work. They head to the Campbell bunker of knowledge and Samuel finds them. Dean demands to know where Crowley is. Samuel isn’t talking. Dean then asks Cas to leave (which kinda blows my season 15 brain ---they have so much more to go through to be a real family.) Dean asks Samuel what Crowley has on him. He pulls out a picture of Mary and tells them that Crowley is going to bring her back if he helps him. Dean tells him that it’s a path he doesn’t want to go down --this is how the bad guy gets them every time….AGGHh, Chuck!!! Dean also uses the word Achilles heal again (ahem.) Also, they will find another way. Samuel kicks them out.
Later, the brothers are busy working on research while Cas indulges in his favorite pastime: watching porn TV. 
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He’s very confused. Dude’s been watching humanity for eons but he’s clueless AF. Dean is appalled that he’s watching porn without him in front of them. 
Samuel arrives and is disturbed by their group activities. He has the location where they drop the monsters they’ve been collecting. The monsters never leave. 
Team Free Will meet up with Meg and her gang.
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Meg hopelessly flirts with Cas. Then they get down to the business of tracking Crowley. Sam demands her knife and then proceeds to kill one of her demon buddies. He was justified though and they all know it. 
Sam loads up on weaponry, while Dean spends some quality time (awkward silences) with Cas. Cas is glum. He expresses doubt about their plan to get Sam’s soul back. Cas describes the likely situation in the cage: Lucifer and Michael have been using Sam’s soul as a toy. 
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Cas projects a future of madness and trauma on an ensouled Sam. Dean chooses to glibly ignore this because he has utter faith that with Cas’s help, they can do anything. (Crying noise) In the shadows, Sam overhears everything. 
Outside Crowley’s compound, the team starts their assault. The side door is unlocked, making it laughably easy to get in. The Winchesters smell a trap! The interior is lined with cells, many of them occupied by monsters - dead or alive. A djinn from an earlier episode pleads for help. Crowley’s got some kinda reach, alright!
In the distant hallways, a hellhound snarls. The camera zooms in on poor, traumatized Dean.
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Everybody runs for it, and a demon falls to the hound. Meg is 100% done with the high death rate of demons in the Winchesters’ company and tries to smoke out. She opens her mouth to no avail - Crowley’s warded the place in such a way that it keeps demons firmly attached to their meatsuits. She’s in this for the (hopefully) long haul. Sam hands her Ruby’s knife so she can kill hellhounds, but Meg turns it down. The Winchesters will need that to kill Crowley. She’s got another plan. 
But first, uh, she has ANOTHER another plan?
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Meg kisses Cas, her hands sliding under his trench coat in a way that we have definitely not ever pictured doing in any way. Nope. 
He spins her around and pins Meg to the wall in a way that we have definitely not ever pictured Cas doing in any way. Nope.
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“I learned it from the pizza man,” Cas tells a stunned Meg. 
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Meg shakes it off and hoists Cas’s blade, purloined from his coat. (What did she do, snake her arm down his sleeve? Lol) She’ll fight off the hounds with that instead. She slashes at the hound while the others move on. 
A bright light flashes suddenly, and Cas disappears just as Samuel pulls his hand away from an angel banishing sigil. Samuel, you giant bag of dicks! He betrayed the Winchesters to resurrect Mary. Crowley and his demons swan in and gain control of Sam and Dean. 
The Winchesters are tossed into cells. Meg, injured but victorious after her fight with the hounds, gets attacked by a demon possessing Christian Campbell. 
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Samuel stops by Dean’s cell to explain himself, and Dean bitterly reprimands him for his betrayal. Samuel insists that Mary’s his blood, and Dean and Sam aren’t close enough to count. “What exactly are you supposed to be to me?” Samuel asks, further cementing my hatred of his character. 
Dean looks up and his MASK OF REVENGE is clearly pulled over his face. “I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the guy you never wanna see again.” CHILLS. He promises revenge on Samuel. 
Samuel walks away from his little confessional moment, and two demons arrive to drag Dean away. 
Meg, meanwhile, has been stripped of her clothing for sOMe ReaSoN. The only things covering her up are the warded bands pinning her to a torture table. I. Just. Why? Why, show? (Excuse me while I glare directly at Robert Singer from across many, many miles.) To Meg’s credit, she looks like she’s ready to do some cool murder (I’ll help). Demon!Christian starts to torture her. 
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Sam chews a hole in his own arm while he waits in his cell, which is not disturbing AT ALL. DAMN, soulless Sam! Dean arrives in Crowley’s interrogation room, and it’s full of bloody bays and intestines. SO unsanitary. The demons chuck two monsters in with him. It’s to be a cage match, I see! 
When demons arrive to grab Sam, they find that they’re trapped in his cell. Sam grins with a bloody mouth at the demon trap he scrawled on the ceiling with his own blood. I mean…GROSS but mad props all the same. 
Meg continues to get tortured when Dean creeps up and kills Demon!Christian. He frees Meg and they start operation, GET CROWLEY. Sam and Dean lure Crowley in with a fire alarm and trap him in a demon trap. (This one’s spray painted, thank goodness.) 
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Sam demands his soul back from Crowley, but ye olde King of Hell refuses. He can’t get into the cage to rescue Sam’s soul. Crowley questions WHY Sam would want his soul back, after all his soft marshmallowy center is surely enduring in the pit. Dean hands Ruby’s knife to Meg and she heads into the demon trap to kill Crowley. 
Crowley proves why he’s the reigning King (or at least how he’s stayed alive for so long) by tackling Meg and flinging the demon knife up into the ceiling to split apart the devil’s trap. Things are looking bad for our heroes when Cas flaps in. “Castiel,” Crowley smiles. “Haven’t seen you all season.” Cas presents a bag of bones and informs the room that he’s found Crowley’s skeleton. 
Crowley bows to the threat and lets the Winchesters go. When he admits that he really, really can’t save Sam’s soul, Cas burns the bones. It’s…DRAMATIC.
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Outside, Cas confesses that the battle in Heaven is going poorly but that there’s nothing the Winchesters can do to help.
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“I wish circumstances were different. Much of the time I would rather be here,” Cas confesses. CAS! Dean forgives him and Sam gives Cas one more mission before he flaps off to Heaven: destroy the monsters locked up in Crowley’s prison. Cas flaps off (and into my spin-off show, SAD ANGEL ASSASSIN). Dean promises Sam that they’ll figure out another way to get his soul, but Sam argues against any plans at restoration. He’d rather be functioning and soulless, thank you very much. Sam walks away, leaving Dean shouting fruitlessly after him.
I Learned it from the Quote-za Man:
Remember when we used to gank demons?
Okay, officially over the foreplay. Satisfy me, or I please myself
Hugs and puppies all around
I can’t believe you fell for that. That was the plot of Raiders, idiot
If the pizza man truly loves this babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear? 
This what you boys do, sit around watching pornos with angels?
I learned that from the pizza man
I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the guy you never wanna see again
Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 
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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years
Text
Starcrossed Losers (Josh Wheeler xReader)
A/N: Cause no one was doing it so I might as well go do it. If you like it and want part two don’t forget to leave feedback! 
Words: 1,892
Warnings: Blood, this is an apocalyptic world so, plenty of gross. Swearing and bad writing cause I did this in a hurry to get it out of my system, this is a series so the end of this chapter isn’t the end of the story uwu
Next chapter
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Oh. Hi. How’s life?
Well, I guess that if you’re reading this, life isn’t exactly going fine. You looked for this, you know what’s up, with the apocalypse, I mean. Not with me, so I guess I’ll start with that.
My name is Y/N L/N and my life is great. Kinda. 
Okay, my life is good enough. The problem is that before this whole thing I wasn’t popular. No, I wasn’t a loser either; or an outcast that only played by her own rules. I was just a kid. 
I was the right amount of friendly, I was an “ok” student at school, I was free to go to parties and I did, but I also spent plenty of Friday nights binge-watching Netflix at home until I couldn’t feel my butt. No one ever watched me up-close, and now I don’t even have parents that look after me or to talk about how my day was. And I really wish I had someone that I can tell how my fucking day was. If I’m honest, these last few weeks have been nothing but a lonely existence.
“But Y/N!” you say, “Didn’t you mention you had friends?”
Well, yeah. Emphasis on “had”. See, even if I had plenty not all of them wanted to form a new group: two of them left with the cheeramazons, others found their home with the gamers, some even were brave enough to leave the city and go look for relatives their age that might still be alive. I was one of them. I went looking for my sister with my ex-best friend to her college hoping that I would find her; which I did. Turns out being twenty years old is enough for you to turn into a ghoulie. So I parted ways with my best friend and I went back to Glendale, the only place where I know my way around because I’ve lived here since I was a baby, and I’ll probably die here in about a month or so, let’s face it.
Since most of the tribes intimidate me, I quietly made my way into the far lines of the jocks. I wasn’t noticed, kind of like the backstage crew, I did things here and there whenever they asked me to do them and got no recognition from that. I was fine with it, honestly. That until Turbo finally lost it and started to kill kids for fun. Like we didn’t have enough with Baron Triumph!
So I left the place and nobody stopped me, of course, no one really cared. My normal life was quiet; my post-apocalyptic one is just that, but with a bit more of freedom. I’ve been living on my own for like three months now, and I think I’m doing pretty good so far. Adapt and survive, right? Just like in Highschool.
And I was doing just that until Josh wheeler decided to crash into me.
“Hey!” I growled from where I was laying on the floor, my knee and elbow scraped and burning, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“No time! The jocks are chasing me, c’mon!” 
Now, I could’ve said ‘No thanks! I’ll leave you to it!’ but the guy was scared shitless and he didn’t wait for a reply, He stood up and pulled me with him. He got on his skateboard without letting go of my hand and I had no choice but to move along, my roller-skates were going so fast against the asphalt, that I was sure they’d be ruined once we reached… wherever it is Josh is taking me. 
At some point, he let go of my hand and I simply decided to stick around for a moment. If he was actually in trouble, he could need a hand.
“Wait, here…” 
Josh gave a sharp turn to the right and into an alley, I followed. Once he made sure no one was there he leaned against the wall and sighed deeply, eyes closed. I stood there with my arms crossed, waiting for the explanation he owed me. When he opened his eyes and realized I was still there, he tilted his head.
“Y/N, right?”
We knew each other, barely though. We got paired up for a school project and that was it. Josh was the typical new kid that no one really pays attention to. He didn’t have any specific traits or amazing talent. He did manage to date Sam Dean I think, I don’t know how did he manage to do it, but I guess the thing is that he’s nice. A good guy overall. He was just Josh.
“Josh,” I frowned, “care to tell me what the hell did you do to piss off Turbo?”
“Nothing!” He scoffed, “It’s all fault of the golf team, I thought they had Sam and I went after them… turns out it was Angelica.”
“Bummer,” I said, though I didn’t really care, “so it was your fault.”
“I just said-”
“You went out of your way to annoy the golf team cause you thought they had Sam Dean kidnapped or whatever, and now you’re saying it’s their fault that you’re being chased down?”
“Yeah?” He stopped for a second, then continued, “okay so it was kinda my fault…”
“Yeah,” I scoffed, “you probably messed up a bit.”
He let out a dry laugh, then stared at me for a moment.
“So what are you doing? are you part of any tribe?”
“Me?” I raised my eyebrows, “I used to, now it’s just me.”
“Yeah, same,” He nodded, “well, I never belonged to a tribe but, I mean, it’s easier, isn’t it? On your own”
“I don’t know… I guess” I looked down at my shoes and whimper at the sight of them. They were most definitely ruined.
“Roller-skates?” He asked with a smirk, “seriously, Y/N?”
“Who are you to judge?” I replied with a frown, “a shitty skateboard against the monster trucks that Turbo drives around? Yes, that’ll definitely gonna leave them biting the dust”
“Hey, my skate is great! And I have a car,” He defended himself, “but… fuck, I guess I left it on jock territory”
“We should keep going,” I replied, deciding not to comment on what he had said, “they might be getting close.”
“You could leave if you want,” Josh shrugged, “after all this whole thing is not your fault”
“I could, but I just left my place cause it got destroyed, my skates are fucked and if the jocks don’t find you they’ll be on the hunt for something else to play with so to be honest, I think that staying with you for a couple of hours won’t hurt.”
“Cool,” He sighed, moving away from the wall.
“Good,” I moved beside him, “ so, where are we going, exactly?”
“Uh,” Josh rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously, “the mall?”
I stopped dead in my tracks, looking at him in disbelief.
“Are you trying to make all the wrong choices today?” I huffed, “Do you have a death wish?”
“No,” He rolled his eyes, stopping in front of me, “Someone told me Sam might be there, so I’m going”
“Do you realize that is Baron Triumph’s territory?”
“Yes, I do. Thank you for reminding me.”
“What is up with you and Sam Dean anyway?” I asked in annoyance, “Were you two together during this mess and then one day you fought, she left the house and now she’s missing?”
I was trying to be sarcastic, I wasn’t expecting him to reply with:
“Yes, that���s exactly what happened.”
“Oh,” I blushed in embarrassment, “sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t think…”
“It wasn’t exactly like that,” He lowered his eyes to the ground, kicking the dirt, “we weren’t together when it happened, but we did fight before. I haven’t seen her since the whole apocalypse stuff.”
We stayed silent for a moment, I didn’t know what to say, not because I didn’t understand the situation, I did. I also had someone important that I wanted to find desperately, and when I finally did, it was too late. I think that I was surprised, I never saw Josh Wheeler as the type of guy who would stand alone in front of Turbo and his crew just to find a girl. If he could be that stubborn about love, he certainly had to be it for surviving. 
“Alright,” I said in a defeated voice.
Josh looked at me in confusion.
“Alright what?”
“Let’s go then, to the mall.”
“You coming?” He smiled, “seriously?”
“I know you don’t need me,” I moved until I was standing face to face, “but I think that we can make a good team, for a few hours though. I hate group projects.”
Josh laughed, giving me a simple nod.
“Don’t worry, we’ll finish this in no time.”
And boy, was he wrong about that.
We hurry our asses off to get to the mall fast and unnoticed, once there I saw two kids cornered by a woman against the doors and I pointed towards them, Josh hurriedly pulled out his sword and stabbed the ghoulie, the woman turned around and ran away, revealing two familiar faces that I was definitely not expecting to see.
“Ah, shit! My sword!” Exclaimed Josh, losing grip of his weapon.
“Y/N?” Asked the boy.
I looked at Josh with a stern face.
“Wesley Fists?” I said, “you ally with Wesley Fists and our school’s drug dealer?”
“I didn’t get much of a choice,” He grumbled.
“You suck at heroing,” Said the blonde girl.
Josh turned around to look at her.
“I saved your stupid lives. Twice.” Then he leaned to grab his skateboard from the ground and added, “now hurry, Turbo’s on our ass.”
I moved to a side and waited for him to open the door when Wesley spoke up again.
“Uhm, no. He’s not,” We all looked back, facing the empty street, “Why aren’t they chasing you?”
Almost as if to answer the question the sound of an engine coming closer made us quiet down, and a black figure appeared in front of us.
“Baron Triumph,” mumbled Josh, probably about to shit his pants like the rest of us, “oh, shit…”
He stepped back and pulled me with him by the hem of my shirt, my skates moving easily against the dusty road.
“Anyone know who the hell this idiot really is?” Angelica, the little blonde girl on my left asks in an upset tone.
“I heard is Marco Lions, that gearhead that lived in Hollywood?” Offered Wesley.
“Didn’t your bestie, Jayden Hoyles ride a motorcycle like that?” Asked Josh in a bitter voice.
“Well,” Wesley nodded without looking back, “Hoyles is a real prick.”
“And you just figured that out?” I asked.
“Whoever he is,” Interrupted Angelica, “here he comes…”
Everyone prepared their weapons for the fight, and it was then when I realized…
“Fuck!” I whispered, “I don’t have anything to defend myself!”
“Don’t worry, we got you” Josh whispered back.
“You literally just lost your sword on a ghoulie’s back.”
Josh was about to reply when Baron got off the motorcycle and we all froze once more. He swiftly took off his helmet, and…
“What the…”
So what’s my life like during the apocalypse?
It’s never what I want it to be.
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pynkhues · 4 years
Note
Howdy! Remember that scene in 2:06 where Annie is going on about Beth's dong fog? Well, she says "I can't stand watching them together" (might be paraphrasing). Had me wondering what they have been acting like in those off camera meetings after the girls found out about them. Head canon maybe?
Anon! This is such an old prompt, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it, but I hope maybe this little ficlet is worth it. Hope you enjoy it :-) 
1
So they’re boning.
Bumping uglies, thumping thighs, rubbing wet spots, doingthe horizontal tango, shaboinking, shagging. Screwing.
Her perfect housewife, total nerd, maybe criminal mastermindsister, and their terrifying, violent, definite criminal mastermind gangfriend,and honestly, maybe Annie should be less surprised. After all, it’s not likeeither of them have been subtle about their eye fucking, and hell, even beforethis latest development she swears she could smell it on them, the pheromonesjust like, radiating off the two of them like a skunk funk.
But god, that bar the other night had been a totally newtype of embarrassing. The way he’d swaggered on over, his eyes on her like he knewexactly what he was doing, a set to his shoulders that was all mating dance –peacock feathers up, and Beth just like, staring right back at him all - - intoit, like she was ready to make a nest and start laying eggs for him or somethingand just - -
It was gross, okay? And Beth had been like, a zeroon the embarrassment scale when she should’ve been a solid 98 million,storming out of the bar like she wouldn’t have murdered Annie for even entertainingthe thought of doing what she’d done, and Annie had spent the night in ateary fury imagining every possible outcome for this - - this development -- and never seeing a situation that didn’t end up with her sister dead or –worse – hurt.
(“And you think dragging her over the coals is going to stopeither of those things?” Ruby had asked her over the phone later that night whenshe’d called to check in, and Annie had frowned, topping up the vodka in herchipped mug.
“Yes,” she insists. Then: “No. Maybe. God, Ruby, you can’tseriously think this is a good idea?”
“Of course not, but making Beth feel bad for gettin’ somewith someone who isn’t Dean for the first time in her entire life is not a goodidea either.”)
Anyway here they are again, sitting in the back of BolandMotors, waiting for Rio to deliver a truckload of unwashed cash to theirdoorstep and blab on about how much he’s looking forward to his sixty percentwhich is frankly bull, because they’re doing all the hardwork and surelythey should be getting a better cut since Beth is like, literally blowing thedude.
And isn’t that an image? Annie scowls, gagging briefly, legjittery underneath her.
She can’t even imagine Beth like - -
Ugh.  
She bets he has a big dick.
He’s got that total vibe after all, that energy, and- - huh.
Annie squints at Beth.
She’s always kind of figured Dean had a micro penis, so thatmust be an adjustment and a half.  
“Stop looking at me like that,” Beth hisses suddenly, ablush having creeped up her neck, and Annie blinks, folds her arms over herchest, gives Beth the best ‘Beth Look’ Annie can manage.
“Like what?”
“You know like what,” Beth insists, and Ruby groans besidethem at the same time Annie loudly scoffs.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sister, if you’re inferring somethingin my look. You know, maybe that’s more a reflection on your guilty conscience,not my feelings, because I –”  
“Yo.”
Beth sits up straight suddenly, pink dusting her cheeks nowtoo and Annie scoffs again, looking sideways at where Rio’s materialised infront of them like he’s just beamed down from the USS Enterprise, or - - no, hewould never get into Star Fleet. He’d be like one of the Klingons or something,sure, the most handsome one to ever exist, but that’s irrelevant.
He’s bad news through and through, and Beth is like somesacrificial virgin or something and just - -
“Is that all of it?” Beth asks, and somehow she’s managed toget the bag off Rio and count it out in the time it’s taken Annie to catch up.She glances quickly over to Rio, at his stupid handsomeness and his sharpfeatures and his raised eyebrow and his eyes all up in Beth’s business.
“Little early to be uppin’ drops, darlin’,” he says, andugh, darling?
Annie scowls, gaze shifting back to Beth who doesn’t even reactto it, just powers through.
“We washed all your cash in record time last week.”
“Yeah, but you were,” he looks at her, purses his lower lipin a way that feels frankly obscene, and adds. “Motivated.”
And yes, Annie thinks with a scoff, motivated by theprospect of the cops finding the body he’d ordered them to kill, but - - wait,is that what he means?
Her gaze flicks between the two of them in horror. Did theymake some sort of sex deal on top of that?
Ugh.
She looks at Ruby, who’s just staring at the ceiling so shedoesn’t have to look at them, and Annie would do the same if she thought shehad it in her to miss this.
“Well, what if we did it again?”
He grins and recollects himself so quickly that Annie almostthinks she’d made it up, the sharp tug to his lips like something he couldn’tquite contain in the moment of it, and it’s enough to make her reel back alittle. To watch the neon security lights catch the angles of his face, andmake him look like some sort of impossibly handsome demon you could hang thenext hit spooky-style franchise on. When he speaks, his voice is husky.  
“Well then we could have another conversation, huh?”
“Right,” Beth says immediately, a little breathless, and shepuffs out her chest a bit which is just - - god, mortifying, and Rionods, eyes flicking down to her boobs like he knows exactly what they look likebeneath her grandma’s-curtains-blouse, which he must now, turning on hisheel to leave and Beth watches him, a look on her face that Annie doesn’t thinkshe’s ever seen before, like she’s - - hungry almost, and just - -
“Ugh,” Annie squawks and Beth swivels around, her eyes wide,like she hadn’t been two seconds away from climbing on his dick.
“What?”
“UGH,” Annie squawks louder, waving a hand at Beth before stormingaway towards her car.
 2
The music is too loud.
Which feels, y’know, kind of like a big deal, because Annieloves loud music, but this bar isn’t playing Train or Sheryl Crow, it’s playinglike, cool music, because it’s a cool bar, and absolutely not Beth– the least cool person she knows.
“I hate this place,” Annie says, and she can feel Ruby rollher eyes beside her, taking a sip of her fire engine, which is franklyridiculous, because even Annie is too mature for fire engines, or - -hmm. Maybe not. She eyes it off. Maybe that’s her next drink.
“You’ve been telling us to go here for months,” Beth says acrossthe booth, and Annie gapes, because, okay, she had, but - -
“Yeah, well, that was before gangfriend decided he wanted tomix up our vibe, okay? Whatever happened to the park at midnight, huh? Brunchat Cloud 9? Okay, I know what happened to brunch at Cloud 9, but what about, y’know- - your back patio?”
Ruby snorts at that, waggling her eyebrows suggestively andtaking a sip on her straw.
“Think we know what happened to Beth’s back patio too.”
It’s enough to make Beth turn about eight different shadesof red, and for Annie to spin around to Ruby in disbelief, spilling her own drinka little in the process, which - - whatever, this is categorically more important.
“Was that an anal joke?”
The question immediately makes Ruby’s eyes open dramatically,her lips parting in horror around the straw in her mouth, cheeks flushing.
“No! I just meant those French doors open up onto Beth’sbedroom, oh my god, Annie.”
Annie scoffs dramatically, shoving her drink in Ruby’s face ina theatrical gesture of punctuation.
“Please, you know what you said.”
“Can we please stop talking about this,” Beth saysdesperately, and just - - Annie swivels around in her seat, back towards Beth,squinting at her sister, trying to read her expression, because that insistenceis pretty interesting.
“Did you guys do anal?”
“No,” Beth hisses, furious. “There was no - -”
And because the universe clearly hates them, Rio choosesthat exact moment to slide too easily into the booth beside Beth, and y’knowwhat? The thing is wide, deep even, but he slides in so close his arm is pushedagainst hers, and just - - god, it’s embarrassing, the way Beth’s eyes widen,the way she sort of lurches sideways before steeling herself, and sort of like –half pressing back into him? It’s really fucking awkward, but Rio doesn’t evenflinch.
“Ladies,” he says, gesturing to the bartender for a drink,who apparently drops every other customer in a five foot radius instantly to serveRio, and Annie glares at him because she waited twenty minutes for her drink,dammit. “You good?”
Ruby’s eyebrows are high up her forehead as she stares betweenthem, and god, Annie can’t blame her. Beth’s so red she could be used to stop traffic,and the air just feels weird and thick, and it’s that whole pheromonething again, and Annie just doesn’t even know how to begin to unpack that.
Luckily she doesn’t have to as Beth suddenly grabs the sportsbag from next to her in the booth, pulling it over herself to pass to Rio, onlyRio stops her, drops the bag to her lap and unzips it there, making neat workof counting through the cash, shifting in his seat enough his back can shield whatthey’re doing from prying eyes.
“It’s all there,” Beth says, her voice all girlish and breathyas Rio goes through the bag on her lap. He doesn’t even reply, but Beth jumps suddenlyand Annie blinks because the only explanation for that means that he must’ve gottento the bottom of the bag, which means the only thing between his hands and herthighs and - - vagina - - is the thin waterproof material of the bag itselfand her sister’s jeans.
“Cool,” Rio says suddenly, zipping up the bag and lurchingto his feet. He swings it over his shoulder, giving Beth a final, loaded look,and says: “See you next week. I’ll bring the funny money.”
He’s barely out of the bar before Annie lets loose a long, strangledscream.
3
She’s been staring at Beth for the last few minutes, tryingto place what’s different when her gaze drops to her sister’s breasts and she justthinks - -
Ah.
“Is that a new bra?”
It’s enough to make Beth spin dramatically around on thespot, her eyes wide, a little wild, her cheeks bright red, and whatever, Anniethinks, rolling her own eyes. That sort of feels like a given these days.
“What? No,” she flusters, flailing her arms, gaze dartingsideways to where Rio’s clambering out of his car a little further down the lot.He looks like he’s on his cell, talking to somebody or other, even as he pullsa bag off the backseat of his car. “How would you even know that?”
Annie just looks at her.  
“I know all your clothes, including underwear. Plus youhaven’t worn a push up bra since like – ever – it’s not like you need one – andno offence, but your tits look like they’re about to become sentient, suffocateyou and take over your body.”
Beth just stares at her, and god, Beth really needs to learnto embarrass less easily. She’s like, nine different shades of red right now. Sheexhales sharply, looking irritated, gaze going sideways towards Rio and thenback to Annie, and then - -
“It was on sale,” she says quietly, and Annie snorts, but -- okay, maybe she feels a little bad when Beth slips a hand below the collar ofher shirt and starts surreptitiously fiddling with the strap on the thing. It’sjust the two of them tonight anyway – Ruby had had a shift at Dandy Donuts shecouldn’t quite squirm out of, and Annie had kind of hated the thought of seeingthe Beth and Rio show without her, but at least she didn’t have to deal with Rubyjudging her either.
So instead they both just stand there, watching Rio acrossthe lot, and he must know that they’re watching him, but he doesn’t acknowledgeit. Doesn’t even turn around to look at them, which honestly - - rude. Annieglances back at Beth, ready to basically tell her that she’s managed to landherself another asshole, only - -
Only Beth’s gaze is fixed. Her focus unwavering, her lips slightlyparted, like he has her hypnotised across the parking lot and that hunger’sthere, plain on her face, but there’s - - something different there too. Somethingthat runs a little deeper, that holds a little firmer, and Annie’s mouth closes,her forehead furrowing, and suddenly she needs to look away, uncomfortable, butnot for the reasons that she has been.
She hears the car door slam shut, and glances back up toRio, and the sound seems to have jerked Beth out of whatever had her in it’s griptoo, and well, at least the anger’s easier to hold onto again when Rio’s gazelaser focuses on Beth’s pushed up boobs.
“Hey, ladies,” he drawls, slipping the bag off his shoulder,but not quite passing it over yet. “Gonna invite me in?”
And Annie just watches.
Watches Beth flush, exhale, smile – just a little.
Watches her let him in.
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Text
Summer Rain
A Wincest fanfiction by j2m-supernatural-akf about Dean having a deep dark desire and a few secrets along the way regarding his brother Sam.
Contains: smut, incest, plot, drinking, hunting.
Chapter 5: Narrow
(1,997 Words)
“5 Days Dean, pull it together dude” Dean says to himself in the mirror the next morning while getting ready, looking into his own eyes makes him feel a bit riddled with guilt again, would Sam ever forgive him when he finds out one day? Dean doubts it. He can already hear it ringing in his head ‘YOU KNEW? You knew this whole time Dean and didn’t say a thing?? What’s wrong with you, you're sick!’
So much to pulling it together huh? He won't find out, there's no way.
They only ever show their cocks and a bit of stomach and thighs, so Dean should be save with this one, but just seeing Sam sitting at the table downstairs makes Dean feel some heat in his lower region. He grabs a coffee first and then sits down, they wanna leave already today due to a case a bit further away, great. Now he is also going to be stuck with Sam in the car again... “You boys leavin’ already?” Bobby asks when he sees their bags next to the door, grabbing a coffee for himself then and sitting down next to them when Sam hands him the newspaper. “Yea, read this, sounds like something we should check out. I mean people going missing in the sewers, sounds like some IT type of stuff.” Sam huffs, catching Dean’s eyes staring at him.
“Dude, you read too much Stephen King” Dean smirks a little, he used to steal a lot of his books for Sam back in the day because he wanted to read them all. “It is freaky though; 10 people have gone missing so far so there is definitely something in those sewers.” Sam points out, and since they have checked out stuff with even less evidence, they are going to look into it. “Alright I don’t need any more convincing! We leave in 20.” Dean says then, it’s a couple of hours drive so they best leave early.
And exactly 20 minutes later they say goodbye to Bobby, Dean would have loved to stay longer but Sam is right they do have a next case and people are still going in there so it seems rather urgent.
Once Sam and Dean start driving to a new state, they start researching the case “So the first person that went missing was an openly homosexual journalist who wrote for a LGBTQ+ magazine. He also had a passion of exploring Abandoned locations which explains why he went there in the first place; nobody saw him since.” Sam frowns. “And get this! The other 9 people who went missing were all part of the LGBTQ+ community as well, one married lesbian couple and trans people and bisexuals and gay men” Sam points out “Looks like whatever is taking those people has a pattern” Sam huffs, closing his laptop then.
“So, we are dealing with what? A homophobic monster? Great.” Dean tries to play it cool but deep down he is pretty scared, if that monster comes after him, he would need to explain to Sam why it did. “Seems like it, we should be safe at least so we can hopefully kill it without getting attacked.” Sam says but he sounded more than unsure and Dean knows exactly why, they are both hiding this from each other.
After a couple more hours of driving Dean and Sam finally make it to a motel nearby the sewers where the people went missing, but instead of taking a break at the motel they decide to go and check the sewers right away, they need to figure out what they are dealing with after all. “Ready?” Sam asks, pointing at the already eerie looking entrance not understanding why people go in there in the first place. They make their way in once Dean nods that he is ready, the path quickly becomes rather narrow and they have to walk behind instead of next to each other, Dean hears some weird noises coming from further down and squeezes into a tighter space then. Sam was looking behind himself and didn’t know what Dead was doing until they crashed into each other “Watch it Sam!” Dean groans, Sam is in front of him and has his back against Dean’s chest.
That’s when they notice that they are stuck.
“Dude, move!” Dean hisses because his own back is pressed uncomfortably against the wall, “I... I can't Dean. I’m Stuck.” Sam sighs, he can’t move an inch. “Are you kidding me??” Dean groans again, rolling his eyes then, he knew it was too narrow to go in himself but now Sam is stuck in front of him as well? That’s when Dean feels Sam’s butt against his lower stomach and crotch, making him exhale sharply, thank god he cleaned the pipes last night... they both did. “Take off your clothes.” Sam mumbles, and Dean’s smacks the back of his head gently then “Hell no”. Dean replies, shaking his head and trying to squeeze out again but he only keeps rubbing his crotch over Sam’s butt so this won't help them at all. “Dean I'm serious! If we both take off our jackets and shirts, we might be able to get out. And take that damn gun or knife or whatever out of your front pocket” Sam groans.
“Uh, that uh ain’t my gun Sammy” He laughs a bit then, biting his bottom lip for a moment while he waits for his little brothers reaction, mind going back to their ‘date’ in a few days where Dean promised Sam to fuck himself in front of the cam, fuck no. Wrong time for those damn thoughts right now. “Dean! Gross!” Sam complains but deep-down Dean feels like he didn’t really mean it, but what else was he supposed to say? This ain’t porn. That’s when Sam starts taking his jacket off throwing it onto the ground next to himself, but he can’t take his t-shirt off by himself because he is still pinned to the wall. “Dude come on, take my shirt off and then let's get out of here before this thing comes out of there and kills us both!” Sam says, and Dean does just that then, grabbing the hem of Sam’s shirt and roughly pulling it over his head, tossing it to the side as well, did he always smell so damn good?
“Now you Dean.” Sam sighs, pulling Dean out of his thoughts then. With a slightly annoyed groan Dean takes his jacket off, then his flannel and then his t-shirt until they are bare chested pressed against each other, god under any other circumstance Dean would love this right now, he would kiss Sam’s neck and roam his hands over that beautiful tanned skin. But not right now, after a few moments of squeezing and scratching their skin on the wall they finally make it out of there. “Yes! I knew this would work Dean” Sam smiles wide when he pulls his clothes back on, Dean is just standing there, staring again, because he is a 100% sure that he is seeing a bulge in Sam’s jeans right now. And Sammy isn't the only one with that, he hates himself for it but it made him hard to have Sam’s ass pressed so close against his crotch.
Finally, Dean pulls his clothes on as well while taking a shaky breath and trying to get rid of that boner before they continue their search for either missing people or a monster. There is definitely a very awkward silence between them, then again talking about this would be even weirder so Dean takes this gladly. “Anything?” Dean asks when they reach a bigger cave like location, taking their flashlights to check the area, but all they find are rats and a pile of ashes in the middle of a circle. “Summoning spell?” Dean asks, looking at the pattern drawn onto the ground. But Sam isn't sure either so they take a picture of it and return to the exit, this time only Dean goes squeezing through that narrow space and Sam waits until he made it out before he follows.
Back at the motel they do some research again for the weird pattern they found, ordering some pizza while they are at it. The whole time Dean can’t stop thinking about what happened, being this close to Sam does things to him that he can barely form into words, and if he saw this right it had an effect on Sam as well, oh how badly Dean wants this to be true.
It took Dean a moment to notice that Sam was staring at him but looking away when their eyes meet, not suspicious at all...
“Hey Dean?” Sam asks, playing around with the beer bottle in his hand for a moment before their eyes meet again “What?” Dean asks back, moving from his paper covered bed over to Sam at the motel room table, grabbing another beer himself and looking at his little brother then. “Uh, back in that narrow tunnel in the sewers I mean the situation was stupid and totally my fault, but... were you really uh... Hard? Or was that just a joke?” Sam asks and Dean’s whole expression is falling right after getting a little pale, he really didn’t think at all that Sam would ask about it and the amount of eye contact they are having makes it even harder to lie. “Oh! What?? Of course, that was a damn joke Sam. I had my flashlight in my pocket, you know I crack jokes when I'm uncomfortable.” Dean huffs, sipping his beer again and taking a shaky breath afterwards.
No matter how hard he tries to understand why Sam would even ask something like that he can't.
It simply doesn’t make any sense, Sam is being too quiet though which makes Dean a little worried.
“Yea, course. Right okay let's just forget about it as fast as possible man” Sam smiles a little and drinking his beer empty then checking the time, “Alright, Imma get ready for bed then.” And with that Sam disappears in the bathroom, locking it behind himself. Leaving Dean even more confused than before, if he didn’t know better Sam almost sounded disappointed there. But he does know better and there is simply no freakin’ way...right? They were both hard from this though and Dean doesn’t know what to do with that either... why is it suddenly so hard to figure out if someone likes him back? Normally Dean has a rather good game with that! But he just can't seem to figure Sam out although he knows him since forever, then again Sammy changed in college.
When he hears the shower running in the bathroom Dean moves over to the motels mini bar, grabbing a few small whisky bottles and filling his flask up. Taking a few sips out of it right away, he feels guilty and unsure about everything regarding Sam now. Out of all the people on this earth why did he have to develop feelings for his little brother? So much crap happened to them already and now this? Incest is a serious subject and to some even a mental illness, google wasn’t really helping Dean with this so that is the only thing he truly knows. As if that makes him feel better...
When Sam comes out of the bathroom with only his towel wrapped around his waist Dean is almost drooling again, he had no idea how well build Sam had gotten while he was away at Stanford. But maybe he just didn’t pay that much attention before, he just can't stop looking at him like that... like it burns him from the inside to not be able to touch and kiss him. How badly he would like to hear him breathe roughly when he's about cum, see his face in ecstasy and bliss.
He wants Sam so badly.
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Thank you so much for reading!
This fanfiction is also on archive of our own you can find it here
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What We Lost and What We Have
Chapter 9:   Wookies, warnings and homophobic grandpas
In which Jack’s sneak stat is a 2, Sam has a weird story about a wookie encounter, and everybody needs a pep talk.
TW’s for this chapter: Talk about past sibling death (not of a main character)
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AU somewhat inspired by Episode 2x20 - What Is and What Should Never Be, and the season 14 storyline concerning Jack’s illness.
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Jack spent almost the whole two hours or so Castiel was gone on his phone and part of Sam was elated.
He’d drafted the same email about corporate responsibility (for the proliferation of inaccurate information on rechargeable batteries) six times now. It was incredibly dull technical writing and he hadn’t been able to focus at all.
Every line of legal jargon he managed to type was interspersed with his mind screaming.
“Say something!”
Sam had come back to the hospital with a purpose, to be helpful to hold out the olive branch to Castiel and BE there for Jack.
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But ‘there’ was all he was…
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He had no idea what to say to Jack. The day before had been easy enough, everything had been one long train wreck fed by the intrinsic emotions that came with serious illness. But now that things had calmed down and everyone especially Jack was not on the verge of emotional collapse? He had no idea what Jack needed from him.
And outside of what Jack explicitly needed or wanted it wasn’t like Sam had a deep well of topics to draw upon for small talk..
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‘What the hell did Sam have in common with a kid literally half his age?’
“What do you say to your estranged baby brother when at his age one of your main goals was keeping the hell away from him?”
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It didn’t help that Jack himself seemed to suddenly become incredibly shy, only occasionally peeking at Sam sheepishly when he thought the man wasn’t looking…
“So you like… Star Wars?” Sam finally blurted after twenty long minutes of silence.
Jack blinked at Sam in confusion at the out of the blue question before glancing at the back of his themed phone case and flushing slightly.
“I… Yes?” Jack looked a little unsure.
Sam grabbed onto the subject, “Who’s your favorite character?”
Jack’s phone buzzed in his hand and the kid glanced between Sam and the screen nervously before setting it gingerly aside.
“I think… I think Finn is pretty cool?”
Sam suddenly realized his mistake, he knew absolutely nothing about the new movies, he’d been too busy to get around to watching any of them
“Oh that’s… cool… I used to have a Chewbacca plush when I was a little kid,” Sam tried instead.
There was a long moment with no noise but the passive whirring of one of the machines and a soft cough from Jack.
“Oh?” the teenager said politely.
“Yeah it was pretty cool, original too, apparently those things are worth a few hundred dollars now…”
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‘What are you babbling about now Sam?’
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Jack smiled and that made it seem worth it though.
“So do you collect stuff like that or something?” he asked curiously.
“Well no, it was kind of… destroyed?” Sam huffed a little sheepish.
“Destroyed?”
“Yeah… Like I said, I got it when I was a little kid, I chewed on the fabric weapons belt until it tore off and one day I left it outside and it rained so it got all mildew-y,“ Sam quickly explained fumbling for purchase with the Jack’s interest.
Jack pulled a face, "that’s too bad…”
“The final straw though was when Dean called it a moldy sloth and I hit him with it, he tried to take it away from me and it tore raining the carpet with mildew-y stuffing…” Sam chuckled to himself.
“That’s pretty destroyed,” Jack looked mildly grossed out.
Sam missed his cue to let it go.
“Thing was though even after all that I still didn’t want to throw the thing out, I was too attached, So at six I thought it was a great idea to  put this damp mildewed furry thing in a pillowcase, tie the pillowcase shut and hide it in my bed’s box spring…”
Jack’s only response was to stifle another cough in his elbow.
“We didn’t find it again until my bed started smelling like mildew, somehow it spread into the wood of the box spring and the bottom of my mattress, and the wookie… well it was some other kind of furry when my dad finally pulled it out.”
Things were dead quiet and when Sam glanced back up at Jack, he looked uncomfortable, “O-oh?” Jack said diplomatically.
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‘You… really overshare Sam, for fu-…’
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“Yeah… it was… nasty, sorry, that was a long time ago.”
Jack’s eyebrows drew down a little and he looked rejected for a moment. Sam wondered if it was something that he’d said.
There was another few minutes of awkward silence before Jack’s phone buzzed again and he glanced nervously between it and Sam.
“Just… go ahead I’ll… “ Sam awkwardly tapped the side of his laptop and just like that they both went back to their designated devices as if nothing had been said.
Sam didn’t know how to talk to Jack, every happy childhood memory he had was from before Jack was born and didn’t include him, and even outside of that, he didn’t really know Jack’s personality, what made him smile, what bothered him… what he loved.
Jack seemed to be cautiously trying to connect too and somehow that made things worse, like they were both going for a high five and Sam kept awkwardly missing.
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‘Trying to meet in a middle that might not even exist…’
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Sam quickly went back to his emails and stayed with his head buried there until Castiel got back a while later.
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“I’m so, so sorry I fell asleep in the parking lot, Where’s Jack?” Castiel asked anxiously before the door even swung closed behind him..
He looked a lot better, his hair still damp but neatly combed and finally dressed down a little bit in a fresh shirt and no jacket.
“He’s fine,” Sam quickly placated, “the nurse just… took him for an X-ray of his arm. I think they wanted to put on a cast or something.”
The man relaxed a little and sighed going back to his spot beside the bed, “right… yes, they… mentioned they might do that today if the swelling was down… I…” He brushed back his hair wearily, “was everything alright while I was gone?”
Sam shrugged, “it was just like I said, nothing bad happened because you stepped away for a few minutes…”
Castiel shot him a look and for a moment Sam worried if he’d crossed a line but the man quickly relaxed again.
“I know you probably think I’m being… paranoid, and I don’t know, maybe I am, or maybe you just can’t understand this, but Jack…” Castiel’s eyes were far away, “I don’t want to take any chances with him…”
Sam felt the same mild discomfort he had for days now, seeing Castiel vulnerable just… felt wrong. The time away had done him good but for every bit less manic he looked now he looked ten times more exhausted.
“You’re right I really don’t get it…” Sam huffed. “I mean the way I see it he’s already in the safest place he could be.”
Castiel snorted sounding unconvinced.
“I but then again I’ve never been a parent so, guess I wouldn’t…” Sam paused, he was coming off all wrong, “I don’t know… what this is like for you.”
Castiel eyed him a little amused, “I didn’t know you even thought of me that way… I… I don’t want you to think I’m some nut but who doesn’t trust modern medicine…”
“I don’t, I’m sure your not…” Sam said quickly.
“It’s just…” Castiel rubbed at his face. “The doctors were doing the best they could when my sister died, sometimes it feels like “the best” still doesn’t mean much …”
Sam paused trying to figure out whether his next words would be welcome or get him another dirty look.
“I mean, I don’t really think things are that bad…”
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‘Dirty look, it definitely got him a dirty look.’
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Sam quickly switched gears, “what I mean is, Jack seems better today so maybe the doctors are on the right track. Or better yet this thing, whatever it is, is just sorting itself out…”
“You didn’t hear what the doctor said last night, you don't…” Castiel sighed and rubbed at his forehead.
“Don’t you have a job to get back to… in California?” Castiel muttered wearily.
For a moment, Sam felt affronted and maybe a little hurt, but there was no real malice in Castiel’s words and the message became clear.
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'Change the subject…’
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“I asked for some time off…” Sam shrugged, “most of our case prep work is done over the internet nowadays anyway…”
Some of the senior partners hadn’t been too happy about it if Mr. Roman’s rather passive aggressive “I hope your family matter clears up soon,” was anything to go by.
But none of the other junior partners seemed to mind at all…
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'Probably glad to have a chance to get ahead and prove themselves…’
'Part of Sam wished he still cared, but lately…’
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Castiel just nodded noncommittally.
“What about you… the high school?” Sam tried, “you’re a teacher right?, how’s that going without you?”
“There’s a substitute…” Cas said simply.
“Oh…” Sam screamed internally, he thought the man wanted a distraction but now it just felt like trying to keep up a conversation with a brick wall.
“I… already had the last few weeks of lessons planned out and review worksheets written up, so while I can’t be there right now,  my classes should be… prepared.” Castiel muttered suddenly, seeming lost in thought, “That’s… one thing I’ve always prided myself on… being prepared…”
Sam caught the implication but decided not to feed into it.
“it’ll be okay…” Sam said simply.
Castiel blinked at him in confusion, “I know they will, Mr. Wyatt is an excellent substitute teacher.”
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‘Okay maybe Sam was lost…’
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He snorted further confusing Castiel.
“What?”
“Nothing…” Sam shook his head, “Jack… he… he told me he misses school.
Castiel blinked in surprise, he opened his mouth to ask something but before he could get the words out there was a knock at the door.
"Delivery,” a voice called.
Jack appeared in the doorway being wheeled in by the nurse Meg with a new violently blue cast on his arm and a sheepish look on his face.
“Jack,” Castiel smiled relieved earning him a nervous smile back from Jack.
He seemed much more stable on his feet than the day before when he climbed gingerly out of the wheelchair as the nurse re-hung the IV bags.
“They’re taking him off the oxygen for now,” the nurse said, her tone seemed considerably nicer now that Jack was awake.
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'She probably had infinitely more patience for sick kids, than antagonistic asshole family members who just act like children…’
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“It’s getting easier to breathe now,” Jack said brightly, even though his pronouncement was almost immediately broken up by wheezy coughing.
“That’s um… that’s great Jack,” Castiel said gently eyes still distracted back on the nurse.
'With a pang of amusement, Sam caught Jack carefully peeking at his phone beneath his blanket when he thought his uncle wasn’t watching.’
“So um… was everything alright?” Castiel asked the nurse, trying to keep his voice chipper and upbeat.
She blinked at him sardonically, “Nope, his wrist is definitely fractured.”
Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed, “That’s not what I…”
She interrupted, “I know, but that’s all I really have to tell you, everything else is above my pay grade, you’ll have to wait on the doctor for any more papa bear.”
Castiel gave a frustrated huff glancing back at Jack who quickly dropped the covers back down over his phone and glanced around sheepishly.
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'If Castiel noticed he didn’t say anything.’
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“You wanna know my professional opinion on this?” the nurse quickly re-drew both men’s attention.
“I don’t know but I feel like you’re going to give it to me either way…” Castiel sighed.
“I can’t guess at what’s going on with your kid, or whether he’ll keep getting better or worse, I could get the hospital sued and lose my job and all that,” Meg shrugged, glancing back over at Jack who was sitting up in bed and playing with his phone “sneakily” under the covers again.
“But…” her voice softened, “he seems to be having a good day… so I’d say try to take today for what it is… and enjoy it.”
Sam wished her saying that did anything to calm the ripples of anxiousness in his stomach, a feeling that must be like waves breaking on the beach in Castiel…
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Dean wished he could say he changed his mind as soon as Sam walked out of the shop, but it took another day and a half…
He’d finished rebuilding the Cuevas’s Jeep’s engine block, changed a fuel filter on some Uni Kid’s car and an engine coil on another’s before he even looked back at his phone again.
No missed calls, no texts. Either everything was fine or Sam also didn’t want to talk to him.
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'What else was new.’
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Either way Dean refused to be the first one to call back. He’d meant what he said and if Sam wanted to act all pissy about it that was his business.
But by the next morning his familiar routine tasted like a Kahlua hangover in the back of his throat.
He was already in a bad mood at eight am when Jesse came to pick up his Jeep from the shop.
“I thought you were going to pick up this hunk of junk yesterday…” Dean scowled hands tucked in his pockets a little defensively.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed…” Jesse sounded bemused waving briefly over his shoulder at his husband waiting with the truck running.
“It would have been nice not to be in a time crunch, yeah…” Dean snorted, pulling out a beer from the mini fridge in the garage’s work area.
“Sorry man,” Jesse shrugged guiltily, “I got a call I couldn’t miss. I thought you said you weren’t busy anyway. Something come up?”
“Brother’s in town,” Dean could feel the man eyeing him concerned as he sipped his morning beer.
“You want one?” Dean offered half sarcastically.
“It’s eight Winchester,” Jesse said flatly.
Dean shrugged.
Jesse sighed pulling out his wallet and fishing out an envelope of cash to pay for the repair, “seriously man what’s eating you, 'cause I’ve met Sam and he doesn’t normally get under your skin like this.”
Dean said nothing just took the money and headed towards the office..
Jesse shook his head looking half amused half irritated following him, “look, me and Cesar are meeting with a few friends at Gabe’s to celebrate tonight, maybe come by if you’re feeling less pissy past nine…”
Dean snorted handing over the cash to the teenager behind the desk, “what are you a fourteen-year-old girl? I’m not 'pissy’.”
“You’re one of the pissiest person I’ve ever met Dean Winchester,” Jesse said with a good-natured smile.
“He’s right, you’re like, super pissy…” Claire remarked flatly counting the cash out into the drawer and not meeting her boss’s glare.
Dean snorted tossing Jesse the Jeep keys, “just try the damn engine already…”
Jesse laughed and Dean followed him out to the car, wanting to remain annoyed but significantly distracted.
“What are you celebrating anyway?” Dean finally asked unable to suppress his admittedly childish curiosity.
“Retirement,” Jesse said simply.
Dean blinked in mild confusion, “dude you’re like 36…”
Jesse grinned infuriatingly and climbed into the Jeep cab, “I know right?”
He let the curiosity eat away at Dean as he revved the engine.
It purred like it was fresh off the line and Dean couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the pleased look on the other man’s face.
“Beautiful, man,” Jesse said patting the side of the door.
Before Dean could ask Jesse if he’d won the lottery or something he pointed to Dean and said simply.
“Nine-Thirty, Gabe’s.”
Dean shook his head, “fine, fine.”
The man smiled, gave a brief thumbs up to his husband in the other vehicle and they both drove off leaving Dean to sit with his extremely mild curiosity and confusion.
Dean rolled his eyes and tried to get back to work.
“Pissy my ass…”
He hated feeling like this.
He had his mother who was doing better then she had been in years teaching mythology at the University and his standoffish little brother who came for Christmas. That was his family.
A house that was payed off in full and the shop he inherited from John that he kept running like a well oiled machine. That was his life.
Dean had made mistakes in the past, lost people in the past
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Who hadn’t?
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He’d made his peace with that and moved on.
He’d decided long ago that Jack and Castiel had their own sad chapter in the Winchester’s life but it was long over. Their lives were two completely separate stories now…
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'Dean was sure the kid couldn’t want the fact he was born because some guy made a mistake, got drunk, and cheated on his wife following him around his whole life… Or at least… he’d get that was a bad thing when he was older.’
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As far as Dean was concerned they were better off forgetting that shitty night ever happened, and he knew forgetting was the right thing to do but people constantly questioning his every decision wasn’t helping.
Sam’s self-righteous huffing and puffing.
Jesse’s… amusement.
Castiel’s confusion over the phone.
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'Don’t act like you care all of a sudden…’
Things were so much simpler when there was just vague dislike and mistrust between the two of them…
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Why was he even worried about this? Castiel said the kid was doing better, that should be the end of it.
If Dean saw someone hit by a car he’d try to help, call 911, stay by their side and keep them calm until the ambulance came.
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'He was a decent man, despite what Sam might think.’
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What Dean wouldn’t do was follow them around the accident victim for the next six months and bludgeon and prod their family for information and acknowledgment.
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Jack and Castiel weren’t family.
Not really.
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Jack was blood sure, but he was blood like a great aunt who lived six states away who nobody talked to for some stupid reason no one remembered, why bring up old shit?
There was too much baggage and bitterness.
Better to leave the great dam of 2000’s infidelity up between Kansas and Indiana as a monument to the shitty past rather than go picking at it and have all the crap pour out.
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‘Dean felt dangerously close to drowning in that bitterness already.’
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If Sam wanted to swing an ax at that himself (like the lumberjack in business casual he looked like) Sam could deal with the resulting flood himself.
He repeated the last thought to himself until he finished up for the day, leaving Claire to lock up the building.
He was of half a mind to ignore Jesse’s offer and just head home, but…
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He didn’t think the empty house would do anything to calm his mind and drinking alone was just sad.
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“Screw it,” He turned at the first red light and headed towards Gabe’s.
He set his phone to silent and decided to act as if that corner of his life didn’t exist for the evening.
He was spotted as soon as he entered the Gabe’s, Cesar grinning at him and gesturing him over to the little group at the bar.
“Hey Dean, sit, first round’s on us,” Jesse called from around his husband.
It was a little bit to Cheers-y for comfort but Dean didn’t fight it sighing and sidling up to the bar.
“Whiskey, neat…” Dean ordered gruffly.
Gabe poured the whiskey one eyebrow slightly raised, “well you’re awful chipper today Deano.”
“Yeah well I don’t even know what we’re supposed to be celebrating yet so…” Dean toasted in Jesse’s general direction smile not reaching his eyes “What’s the party for?”
“New beginnings,” Jesse smiled lifting up his own glass. “Finally bought the property of our dreams.”
Dean blinked, “yeah? How’d you swing that?”
“Finally sold the old shop…” Cesar said smiling at Jesse proudly.
Dean blinked, feeling a slightly bitter pang of nostalgia. He could remember long summers going out with friends and dates to rent kayaks and buy ice cream from Jesse’s family’s old rental shack by Clinton lake.
“Business finally get that bad?” Dean felt how rude the words were in his mouth and cringed internally, but Jesse just snorted and smiled.
“Just the opposite actually, it’s shaping up to be one of the biggest tourist seasons yet…”
“So… going out on a high then?” Dean took another swig of his whiskey.
“Something like that,” Jesse shrugged.
“The Gallager kid turned 25 and he’s been working there since he was 16, we figured he was probably ready to take over,” Cesar explained.
“Wait time out,“ Gabe cut into the conversation brandishing his bar rag. "Dude hasn’t your family been running that place since most of the people in the old folks home were in diapers the first time?”
“That’s the thing though, it’s always been my family’s thing,” Jesse said diplomatically, “I only actually took over because my brother was gone, my grandpa in fact had some strong opinions on ‘people like me’.” Jesse snorted, “honestly I think I only stayed so long out of spite, that and I promised mom… I always meant to let the place go when I found someone to take care of it. It was never what I dreamed about doing…”
“Sam was the same way, never wanted to work at the shop…" Dean huffed a laugh, “He never could get along with dad… so it would have been fucking weird if he stayed.”
-
John had been angry; not so much at Sam wanting to go his own way but just… how vehemently against staying Sam had been. “You just can’t wait to leave your family behind can you?”
“Don’t you dare, you don’t get to say that to me, not you!” Sam spat back.
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“Why wallow in the shitty past when you can just move on…” Dean muttered coming back to himself in the bar.
Jesse turned his glass in his hands looking pensive, “Sometimes it felt like that… but no that’s not really it.”
Dean’s eyebrows rose.
Jesse quickly explained, “I mean yeah there was a lot of shit there, but I grew up around that old shack, me and my brother worked there pretty much every summer after we were old enough to see over the counter…”
Dean whiskey tasted ashy in his mouth, he remembered Jesse’s big brother, he’d always been the cool older teen who’d give you an extra half scoop of ice cream when “the boss” wasn’t looking.
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He’d drowned on a fishing trip with his younger brother when Dean was in junior high…
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Jesse shrugged continuing where he left off, “why would I let one shithead ruin all of that?”
Dean hummed vaguely still feeling a little lost, “but you’re still giving it up now?”
Jesse nodded glancing toward Cesar, “Don’t get me wrong, if my brother was still alive… if I still had family interested in running the place maybe I wouldn’t've… For a long time I thought that was going to be my whole life.”
Cesar gently squeezed his husband’s hand and Dean felt a pang of emotion he pushed away before he could identify it.
Jesse continued, “But I have a family now and I… I just… can’t live in the past anymore.”
Dean felt more lost than ever, “Makes sense I guess, why literally live in all the painful bullshit when you have something better…”
Cesar blinked at Dean, “seriously dude why so dark?”
Dean bit back the need to find a smarmy way to tell his friends it was none of their damn business, “Just shitty family stuff…”
“Your brother?” Jesse asked.
Dean snorted, “you could say that…” he knocked back the rest of his glass. “I just don’t get that kid anymore…”
“He do something stupid?” Jesse asked.
“He’s an adult, he can do what he wants,” Dean snorted and tried to get Gabe’s attention for a second whiskey, “It’s not like we really even talk much anymore, who am I to keep him from shoving his foot up his own ass…”
“Yeah, that’s real convincing…” Jesse shook his head bemused.
Dean hurumphed and muttered a thanks to Gabe who finally came over.
“Are you two still on the same crap from a few days ago?” Gabe asked pouring the second glass.
Jesse and Cesar’s ears perked up and even Gabe’s weird brother Gadreel was watching him from across the room. Dean wondered darkly if there was any privacy left in this town.
“Yeah my own, personal, crap,” Dean said pointedly.
Gabe held up his hands in mock surrender, “okay, okay, fine, don’t talk about it, it’s just seems like whatever "it” is seems to be eating you an awful lot…"
“Yeah well Sam has that effect, he does dumb shit and you worry about him, over and over until it’s just too much and…” Dean wrapped his knuckles on the table, “maybe you have it right and it’s time to cut him loose, move on…”
Jesse pulled a face, “that’s not what I meant at all…”
“Yeah well then what do you mean, because I’m getting tired of guessing,” Dean barked.
Jesse had the courtesy not to smirk at him.
“My point is… I don’t really know Sammy haven’t seen him since he was sixteen but… make sure shutting him out is what you really want, and not just some petty shit.”
It dug like a knife in Dean’s gut, “You’re right you don’t know shit…” Dean muttered taking a swig from his glass…
Jesse smiled more than a little forlornly, “all I do know is, having lost him, if I had a second chance with my brother…” he trailed off, “Make absolutely sure you’re ready to give up your chances at this future, when you’re planning on leaving behind your past…”
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Oof, sorry it took me so long to get back, it’s been a crazy few months and it’s been a struggle to get back to my usual writing routine with everything going on. Hopefully, things will be better now.
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the-citrus-scale · 4 years
Text
Supernatural’s Top Ten Scariest Moments
Supernatural is finally coming to an end next year. It seems simultaneously like a day that would never come and has been a long time coming. Since the first episode of this last season found Sam and Dean facing some of their oldest adversaries, we thought we’d look back at some of the original nastiest and spookiest happenings of the series as a tribute for Halloween. Seems appropriate, right? All of these moments are from the first five seasons of the show to pay homage to its planned original run.“Skin” (1x06): Learning that shapeshifters were real during the first season was cool, but it was also one of the most disgusting things we’ve ever seen on TV. That long, drawn-out scene where the shapeshifter, in the guise of Dean, of course, literally ripped all of his skin off, made all of his teeth fall out, and twisted and crunched his bones? Yeah. We could have lived our whole lives without that one.
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“Skin” (1x06): Learning that shapeshifters were real during the first season was cool, but it was also one of the most disgusting things we’ve ever seen on TV. That long, drawn-out scene where the shapeshifter, in the guise of Dean, of course, literally ripped all of his skin off, made all of his teeth fall out, and twisted and crunched his bones? Yeah. We could have lived our whole lives without that one.
“Shadow” (1x16): One of the most violent episodes of Supernatural overall, we think. Literally everybody got their butts kicked and lost blood at some point in this one. Daevas are clearly nothing to mess with, not to mention Meg, who got her own temporary comeuppance during this episode.
“Something Wicked” (1x18): One of the most terrifying lore-based episodes of the series for sure. Not only did we learn more about Dean and Sam and John, but the idea of a creature that feeds solely on children to steal their life was appropriately heart-wrenching and horrifying.
“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things” (2x04): Dean and Sam encounter a zombie under some unusual circumstances. Besides the vengeful dead girl whose injuries don’t heal, the fact that her best friend resurrected her because he still wants to bang her (yes, even though she’s dead), did nothing to make this episode less skeevy.
“No Exit” (2x06): Jo joins Dean and Sam for this hunt featuring one of the world’s most notorious serial killers turned ghost. All of the hiding in vents, cracking the ceilings, gross fingernails, and hidey-holes definitely made this episode scary. Plus the dead guy’s obsession with hair. What is it about that that freaks us all out so much, huh?
“The Magnificent Seven” (3x01): The Seven Deadly Sins made an appearance in very real demon form in this episode to rather gross effect. Particularly disturbing was the scene when they made another hunter drink drain cleaner until he died. Ew.
“Jus In Bello” (3x12): The episode when Dean and Sam get arrested and then face a police station full of demons is definitely one of the most nerve-wracking of the entire series. Perhaps what makes it one of the worst is knowing that everyone they saved in the station died when Lilith showed up later in horrible and far too prolonged ways.
“Time Is on My Side” (3x15): In pursuit of a way to save Dean’s life, Sam searches for Doc Benton, a man who discovered the secret to immortality by, uh, harvesting organs from others and replacing the ones in his own body. It’s gross, has a high body count, and honestly, it’s not a kind of immortality we think we’d be into.
“Metamorphosis” (4x04): This episode was particularly traumatizing. It showed us that anyone can become evil no matter how good their intentions are. In this case, a man became a flesh-eating monster by eating a lot of raw hamburger meat, going through some severe back spasms, and finally, yes, eating people. Blech.
“My Bloody Valentine” (5x14): Remember when Famine, one of the Four Horsemen, showed up? It got gross fast. Two people literally ate each other to death. We’re seriously still shuddering. Add in Sam’s detox from demon blood at the end and this was just an icky episode overall.
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