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#like if he was actually in a relationship with dean then dean might be like 'can you please wash that thing off man.'
sweetpapercroissant · 6 months
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“dean winchester is a misogynist because he lies to women to get them to sleep with him and therefore clearly doesn’t respect them”
then you actually watch the show and every time dean sleeps with a woman he’s soft and there’s a gentleness even in his passion and he always makes sure his partner’s satisfied/comfortable and he does form genuine connections with the women he sleeps with even if he lies about his name and job (which is completely understandable and actually the sane thing to do considering most of america knows him as a serial killer and there’s not a lot of people around who’d bother talking to a guy who claims he hunts monsters for a living) (or for fun ig since there’s not a lot of ‘living’ in this profession) and he spends time getting to know them and offers the little bits of himself that he can and most of the time that dean has sex with a woman he sleeps over and they see him off in the morning with a goodbye kiss and genuine affection for him and if they ever run into him again they’re clearly fond and look back on their shared memories with satisfaction if nothing else and. this is the guy who doesn’t respect women? how? by believing they are adults who can want and enjoy a night of sex with no strings attached (something he’s always straightforward about btw)?? and more importantly it’s always consensual and they like him as a person and they’re clearly both enthusiastic about it (in fact there’s actually instances where dean isn’t completely enthusiastic but never the other way around).
also any time he’s been in a serious relationship where he was going to be a part of the other person’s life he tells them the whole truth, about hunting and monsters and his role in it and what being with him would entail. so i’d say he respects women just fine but maybe you need to seriously evaluate why you feel having casual sex with women is inherently disrespectful of them.
not to mention that the sex does mean something to him. even if he didn’t it wouldn’t be “wrong” or “misogynistic” to want to have sex with a woman without a relationship BUT. the sex does mean something to him. because he craves intimacy and human contact and affection and being liked and wanted and so often when he’s going through something he’ll open up to these women (jaime, anna) and they’re willing to listen to him without judgment and they’re gentle with him, with his grief, his trauma and the sex is a way for him to connect on a deeper level with them and it helps him and he’s spent almost his entire life isolated from society and can’t form long lasting relationships for much of his childhood and youth but he actually cares about them as human beings and he feels affection for them and it fulfills his desire for tenderness that he can’t expect from anyone else. and there’s nothing wrong with any of that.
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nightzombie · 7 months
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dean was a complete asshole to Jack in every way for so fucking long i think while watching every single damn episode they're in. i do not doubt that they care for one another, and that they love each other as father and son. i will never doubt that. and i understand it was for symmetry. john dean sam. dean sam jack. it is on purpose. but holy shit if i see one more fluffy fix-it that doesn't slightly acknowledge the shit they put each other through, the daddy issues that literal God has, etc etc i will shit myself.
the relationship between dean and jack is one of a parent and a child, one that is fraught, filled with anger resentment and love like every damn relationship in this goddamn stupid show. they have wronged each other and yet we are explicitly told (though not shown) they are still family, still love each other. because they don't know how to not.
and they deserved to hash out their issues. jack deserved to yell and kick and scream at dean for his lack of unconditional understanding that should be extended from every parent to every child, even if there is a blatant lack of forgiveness. they deserved to talk about mary past jack breaking down in 15x14, the punishment that was seen as "deserved" (it was not. no one deserves that).
they are so complicated and had such a good fucking set up and guess where that went??? no where!!!!
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sendmyresignation · 10 months
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truly nothing on this earth is more foul than supernatural familial abuse discourse but specifically the discourse people have about if sam or dean "had it worse" like ok cool you have already missed the point of this show very hard.
#the things ive seen in those trenches.....#its like actually their circumstances were based on their positionality in the family and the expectations each had#but on another level the discourse never truly explores what sams life was like as a child. hes either a spoiled brat or a martyr#in ways that make him one dimensional in ways fanon child dean just. isnt.#sam isnt just isolated. hes also controlled and surveilled. any wrong move (unbeknownst to him) proves to john hes irredeemable#like the center of john telling dean he might have to kill sam. is always dean like i feel crazy with how little consideration there is#toward the mental headspace of a guy whose whole childhood is suddenly warped by the realization his father suspected he was evil#and might need to be put down like a dog. and then. sam accepts this!!!! he truly believes is he Crosses A Line dictated by deans judgement#then oops oh well! because fundamentally sam has been conditioned to believe in his own inability to make decisions about himself#so the 'dean protects sam! dean keeps sam innocent and gave him a childhood' becomes much more insidious when u realize#that is one side of the coin wherein sam is under the complete authority of another person#and obv dean is not evil for that. its learned behavior!!#but instead of teasing out this reality when we learn what john told dean... it becomes aww poor dean :(( instead of a horrific glimpse int#the hierarchy of information and control fundamental to their relationship. guys its a cult.#my posts#spn
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quietwingsinthesky · 9 months
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something very tragic about looking at dean's relationships with most of the women he knows especially through an aro!dean lens because he so clearly wants deeper relationships with them but because he's dean and has Problems and A Role To Perform, he can only allow himself to have it through romantic attachments that he isn't even comfortable with.
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sootonthecarpet · 9 months
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I don't think it ever occurs to cas from Supernatural to bathe until that arc in season... nine or something where he's an Ordinary Human Man With A Job. he definitely sweats and gets dirty though. he just gets greasy and flaky over months and months and occasionally for plot reasons he dies and comes back to life with less dirt and sweat and old epidermis on him. this totally changes in the later seasons once he learns how to be comfy! for instance that time we see him in bed with pajamas on in season eleven, (I think it was in Baby or maybe the ep with sam's imaginary friend?) you know that bitch is clean. but shower sex w/ dean or something is the only thing that could possibly save, like, let's say, season five cas from being just an absolute stinkfest, and I love that about him. he doesn't even realize he's itchy, he just thinks that's what having skin is like and it gets worse the longer you're alive. 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖🥰😍😚 gay men who just kinda smell bad. guys who don't know ANYTHING about upkeeping a human body. dudes whose asscrack n package you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole unless you were hopelessly in love with them and needed them like air 💓💕🩷
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inkskinned · 3 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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igotanidea · 1 year
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Home : bat!family x bat!sister
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Summary: no one gets to offend my siblings and father. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.
***
Maybe it was a bad idea to apply for that Erasmus program and leave her brothers and adoptive father alone for whole three months. Sure, studying abroad, expanding knowledge, learning language and customs was an amazing experience, but it came with the cost. The price of being in fear that her family would get themselves in trouble, pain, fight they could not recover from.
The first two weeks of her adventure was the worst, since she was waking up at most random night hours, ready to jump into fight, those vigilantes instincts and habits kicking in.
Those were the nights when she was turning and tossing in her bed unable to close an eye and in result sneaking out her dorm room and walk around the campus like the ghost. The quietness and peacefulness of her surroundings at the academy were so different from those she knew in Gotham, it was almost disturbing.
There was no denying that Y/N was the smartest in the family, even Tim admitted it once (obviously not while talking to her, but she overheard his conversation with Bernard) but at times like this she was second-guessing her choices.
Due to her specific upbringing and family background she also never managed to form any deep connection with her fellow students, preferring to stay by herself, focus on the task and putting a lot of work into expanding her knowledge and skills in technology. She never complained, but from other people’s perspective she was an eremite. Kind, polite with perfect manners when someone asked her for something or while working in group, but still highly reserved. Just like her adoptive father, whose relation to she was trying to keep a secret. And it worked up to the day when one of the lecturers accidentally called her  “Miss  Wayne” in front of the whole class. The second he did it the air in the auditorium froze. She might have been in different country, but for God’s sake she was studying technology, of course everyone heard about the Wayne Enterprises and the  Bruce Wayne.
“You’re his daughter?” one of the boys in the lower row turned around and eyed her suspiciously
“Yes. Adoptive one.”
“Of course. He’s well known for taking kids in, right? Seems like some sort of complex or maybe even a disease” he smirked and it made the girl clench her fist. Her relationship with Bruce might have been rocky, but no one except her and her brothers were allowed to judge and offend him.”
“Care to elaborate on that?” she hissed, eyeing the guy with ice cold gaze
“Miss Y/L/N! Mister Olsen! Please calm down and sit down!” the teacher tried to make up for his mistake but it was far too late for that.
“You misspelled my name once, might as well keep calling me Wayne now.”  the tone of her voice matched the gaze. She was not going to let the guy easily, but getting in trouble with the dean was not a part of her plan. “Now, can we continue with the lecture? I don’t know about anyone else in her, but speaking for myself I would love to actually learn something useful.”
***
Y/N was the middle child. Younger than Dick and Jason, older than Tim and Damian which placed her literally halfway  in the family. Because of that she was a mix of responsibility and carelessness, doing her own thing, not always the right way, but still capable of getting away with a lot more than the others. Not as family oriented as Dick, feeling a bit overshadowed by Jason, highly competitive with Tim and more independent and individualistic than Damian. Still, even despite her “boss bitch” attitude, she was sandwiched between her brothers which made her the best negotiator and mediator in the family. Y/N also had a strong sense of fairness and morality and would always try her best to do the right things. Objectively, not subjectively. And making fun of her family was not one the things she could forget. However, before taking any action she had to gather intel, figure out what the guy knew and then come right at him.
***
Waiting till the end of the class was probably the greatest torture she ever had to endure, every minute stretching into infinity and when it was over the sense of relief almost made her drop the plan. Almost.
“I’m not done with you, Olsen.” she was faster to the door, stopping her potential victim from getting away.
“You want more, Wayne?”
“Please. Hit me with your best shot. What is your problem with my family, exactly?”
“Let me think” he tapped his chin. “There are so many. Like for instance, your oldest brother. What was his name again? Oh, right! Dick. Suits him quite well, doesn’t it. A prick, if you ask me. Definitely a show-off with no skills.” He scoffed “Shall I continue?”
“ Please. You got like three more people to gossip about.”
“The second in line, Jason, right? Oh, the unhinged  one. Violent, mocking, thinking he is better than anyone else around, when in reality he’s just a lost, scared child. Probably a dumbass too.”
“Pretty sure he would agree with that. Now what about Tim and Damian?”
At this point Olsen was getting a bit surprised that the girl in front of him was still unfazed. Her calmness, a sign of silent inside fury making him slightly uncomfortable.   Not enough to stop however.
“Drake…..” the name rolled of his tongue while the boy was wondering what words to choose “oh, he’s the gay one, right? Such a shame that the renowned Wayne family has someone like that as a member. Bet your father would never take him in, if he knew. A fairy becoming the next CEO of his renowned company. How ironic!”
“Hm.” Oh, Y/N was so much like Bruce at times and it showed in the least expected moments.
Damn that girl! How could it not make her angry?
“And …… Damian, the only biological child. Absolutely maladjusted and unaware of social norms and boundaries. Tell me, how was it like to have your youngest brother violate your boundaries and personal space?”
“It was. ….educatory. Just like it was with everything you just said. You presented yourself as someone with some serious psychological issues and possibly an unhealthy interest in my family’s life. So thank you, it truly was illuminating.”
***
“What the hell did you do Y/N?” a very alerted Dick appeared  on the other side of the screen
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The girl sighted and fell onto the cushions bringing the computer onto her lap to see her brother better
“Don’t lie to me now, sis.”
“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”
“Bruce has been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes and from what I figured it’s about something that happened on the campus.”
“The only thing happening on the campus are students who skip classes.” She mumbled “maybe except that one time when one of the boys lost some stupid bet and blew up the fountain as some sort of punishment. That was funny.”
A little grunt was heard on Dick’s side and for a second he disappeared from the screen.
“Dick?”
“Sorry, I had a little interruption.” He rubbed his forehead “Now, back onto what you did…..”
“Did you say that someone blew the fountain?” third face appeared on the screen in the corner, taking over the conversation.
“Hello, Jason.”
“Hi sis. Maybe I should have joined you in your academic career. Seems like you have a lot of fun there. Besides, I never really finished school, since you know…. I died.”
“We know.” Y/N and Dick said in unison
“Always a good opportunity to remind you, right?” he grinned “Now, sis, tell me, how was it going full rogue on fellow student? I gotta admit I’m proud of you here.”
“So that’s what this is about?” Dick’s eyes grew wider than ever “I;m gonna ask you once again, Y/N. what did you do?”
“Nothing permanent.”
“What…..?”
“Cut her some slack, Grayson.”
“Look who decided to join us.” Y/N smirked “improved your computer skills much, Damian?”
“I got tired of being left out.”
“Since when do you care about the group?”
“Leverage, sis. Knowledge is power, I thought you knew that.”
“Ok, that is enough!” Dick finally lost his patience “I’m trying to have a conversation with my little sis here. Both of you, get out of the line!”
“Mhm, keep dreamin’ Dickhead.”
“For once I agree with Todd.”
“You have no right to…..”
“Guys…..” Y/N tried to mitigate them, but deep inside she enjoyed their bantering. It was a while since she experienced it and only now realized how familiar it was.
“I was here first!” Dick yelled “And I’m the oldest”
“No one cares Grayson! You are a Bludhaven resident now.  Just because you visit the manor does not mean you can keep Y/N busy using the wayne’s devices!”
“Don’t you have someone to kill in the crime alley, Jay?”
“Unlike you, I succeeded in all my latest missions.”
“Is that what you call coming back to your safe house bloodied and injured. You were on the verge of death!” Damian smirked “you were absolutely inept, that’s not a success.”
“You were what, now?!” Y/N shrieked. Her second oldest brother was sometimes too careless.
“It was not that bad, Y/N, I swear. And how the fuck do you know about it, demon?”
“I have my ways.”
“I would suspect Drake of spying on me, but you?”
“Speaking of the devil, I’m surprised Tim hasn’t already join us.” Dick muttered
“Oh, he did.” Y/N pointed out
“WHAT?” her brothers cried. Now there was another one fighting for her attention and it was not a secret that Tim was her favorite making the situation harder.
“I did.” Tim chuckled  “Well, to tell the truth Y/N let me in the channel. We have our ways with technology. Something none of you could ever fully understand. “
“Of course not….”
“Cheer up, Dami. You can’t monopolize all the areas.”
“I would beg to differ.”
“Ok, everyone hold up here. I think we lost the point of the conversation. The thing was that Bruce was on the phone, probably taking to the dean about….”
“Y/N played a little prank on her classmate, is that right?” of course Tim was the one who everything best.
 “He deserved it.”
“Y/n…..”
“Stop using the big brother voice on me! It’s not going to work!”
“How about we use Damian’s youngest one?” Dick teased
“I refuse to be used in this….”
“SHUT UP DAMIAN!” Dick and Jason shouted together and shared a murderous look between one another. Now they were both desperate to find out what happened since Tim would rather die than spill the bean. It was infuriating. They were the older brothers! This had to mean something.
“Ok, that’s it.” Damian stood up and the view of the empty chair in the place where his face should be was highly disturbing.
“That is not good.” Y/N said out loud something that all of them already knew. Her presumptions turned out to be right a second later when the shouting and yelling reverberated through the speakers and a blur of black and green rushed into Dick’s room.
“hey, I want to join the fight too!” Jason started up and with a speed, Wally West could be jealous of involved in the mix of limbs and screams.
“Wait! I though Dick was in Bludhaven! Tim?”
“Not today. We’re all in the manor.”
“And you idiots were talking to me through four different computers?”
“Are you actually surprised?”
“On second thought, not at all.” She sighed. It’s a good thing you are the reasonable one here…..”
“There you are, Timmy” now the situation has turned as it was Dick who appeared in the door of Tim’s bedroom “you are not  getting out of this. If you want Y/n to yourself you have to fight me.”
“And me!” Jason tackled Dick to the ground with a loud thump
“Losers!” Damian jumped over their bodies and came right at Tim
Because of their actions, Y/N was the only one who noticed two men stepping from the shadows and exchanging some words. Apparently Bruce wasn’t capable of putting the boys in their places and asked Alfred to try this instead. And a single grunt from the butler did a miracle as all of them stood up and started explaining and apologizing. Funny as it was, Y/N knew that with Bruce’s arrival she was heading straight towards preaching from her father.
“Y/N.”
“Hello Bruce.”
“Did you break his arm?”
“You broke his arm?” Dick was halfway out but turned back immediately
“No.” Y/n shook her head “I broke his arm and hurt his legs.”
“Don’t forget that you also demolished his dorm room.”
“That wasn’t me. That was….”
“Did you go at him as a vigilante? Wow! Way to go, sis. Now I truly am proud of you.”
“Ok, both of you, out!” Bruce lost the rest of his patience pushing Dick and Jay away. “Now that we are alone…….” he sighed deeply closing the door tight  
“I;m not sorry.”
“Oh, I know. And I’m not mad, because I’m sure you had a reason to do it. So tell me, why?”
“you…. you want to know ?”
“Of course. Look Y/n, I’m aware I won’t get  a father of the year cup from you, but I care all right? Did that boy hurt you and you took retaliation? Just tell me….”
“He was talking shit about our family.”
“And you felt the urge to protect the Wayne’s honor?” Bruce smirked “this is so not like you.”
“Honor, my ass. We’ve lost that ages ago, Bruce. The only thing I was protecting was my sole privilege of mocking you. No one else is allowed to do it.”
“I’ll be sure not to tell your brothers that you miss them. “
“That would be most welcome.”
“And you have to know that we don’t miss you either, y/n.” father and daughter’s gazes met and they both nodded in silent agreement, right corners of their mouths lifting almost unnoticeable. “You coming to visit next week?”
***
Something was wrong.
Something was terribly wrong and that tingling sensation became unbearable the second she climbed the manor’s stairs and reach for the doorknob with a heartrate so fast it would send anyone else straight into cardiac arrest. Y/N however kept her cold blood, focusing on what may happened inside and considering her options and strategies for a potential fight.
She could not expect  that the moment she opened the door four figures would jump out from the shadows making the noise that would bring the dead from behind the grave. It startled her and as a result she stumbled back, hitting the wardrobe and making it shake. She could not expect that on said wardrobe there would be packets and packets of paint and that those would fall down straight on her making her look like some abstractionism painting.
“I hate you all.” She muttered while her brothers run away in four different directions.
“Welcome home, miss Y/N” Alfred approached her with a tissue so she could at least wipe the paint from her eyes.
“Home.” She whispered “Yes, it definitely feels like it.”
It was good to be back.
But she was still going after them. .....
Later. When they would least expect it.
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fqirysim · 5 months
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untitled--
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genre(s): angst, some fluff at the end, exes to best friends to lovers, highschool au, lowercase intended, lots of pov changes
requested: nope !
pairing(s): yang jungwon x reader, ft. yuna (itzy), and intak (p1h)
word count: 7.2k (my longest fic yet ! ) 
warning(s): cursing, underage drinking, a tiny bit of infidelity 
synopsis: you had been in love with yang jungwon since the day you met him. 
note: lowercase is intended, lots of pov changes! (read carefully so you don’t get confused lol). this took me a year to make PLEASE don't judge too harshly i put my heart and soul into this 😭. took me a year to make but could not come up with a title for the life of me, hence why it is called untitled, silly silly me. this was really fun to make though and although it took me a while to make, i'm very proud of it. lmk if you want to be added to my taglist and i will gladly do so !! special thanks to my bestie abby and my bf dean for proofreading love you both <3333
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you were certain this was the end of your friendship with jungwon. again. but this time you knew it would be permanent.
he was the boy who lived next door. growing up, you had always admired him from afar. the class president who everyone, including the upperclassmen, seemed to get along with.  
you had liked him until freshman year, when you got tired of pining over someone who didn’t seem to hold any interest in you. as comical as it seems, that was around the time that he had started to take an interest in you. 
and so he courted you, bringing you your favorite drink, walking you home, even coming over for dinner and hanging out at your house. this helped blossom a friendship that no one saw coming, and it wasn’t long until people started to wonder if you two were an item. 
it took two months for jungwon to muster up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. 
you were sure you were over your crush on him, that it was just a silly childhood crush. but as you hung out with him more and more, you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again. of course you said yes, because who wouldn’t say yes to the pretty starry-eyed boy standing before you?
jungwon was a nice boyfriend; going on dates quite often, never fought, and he would buy you flowers without being asked.. maybe the latter was why the whirlwind relationship only lasted five months. 
you remember the day so vividly, sitting on the bench at your favorite park; the same park where jungwon had asked you to be his, and here he was, asking you to break up.
 it seemed poetic in a kind of way, starting as his, and leaving as no one’s.
“i’m sorry. i’ve just lost romantic feelings,” jungwon stated, staring down at the grass as a breeze of wind came, the blades of grass swaying slightly. “it’s just that we’ve both been so busy with other things, and i guess we kinda just like, drifted apart because of it.”
“yeah, i think so too,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the slight sting in your heart. 
his head snapped up, your eyes finally meeting his, “wait, actually? you’re not lying?” the sound of relief in his voice made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.
“do you want to get rid of me that bad?” you instead teased with a grin. 
“no!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. “i still wanna be friends with you. i might not like you romantically anymore, but i don’t wanna like, lose the friendship we have, you know?”
“yeah,” you replied, “we can still be friends.”
and you two meant it. there were no tears, and no broken hearts (that you would like to admit). it was just a simple case of the right person and the wrong time, and as the years continued, you tried to convince yourself that it was just nothing. that jungwon was not your “right” anything- he was just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. 
you were almost successful. until your last year of high school approached. 
you and jungwon kept your word, you stayed friends. always being seen together; walking to class, walking home, studying in the library, eating lunch in the cafeteria. 
people still believed you were together, and you always had to correct them, because no you and jungwon were no longer together and no you were not a thing.
they never believed you, though. 
there was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes when someone would ask. that you and jungwon were a thing and that he was yours and you were his. but you never did, callingyourself crazy for even thinking of doing so. 
you found yourself doing it again as yuna had asked you earlier in the week. 
yuna was the new girl this year, having transferred from jyp high. from what you heard, she was nice, smart, and she was gorgeous. you were never one to put yourself down, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel insecure standing next to her. 
“no, jungwon and i are not dating,” you smiled politely. it was almost like a script at this point. “we’re just good friends.”
“that’s good to hear,” yuna smiled, her eyes sparkling. “i just wanted to ask him out, but i wasn’t going to if you had a thing!”
“oh, you’re thinking of confessing to him?” you questioned. there was that little part of you again. the part that always said no! tell them you’re a thing! tell them to not do it!
“yeah, he’s in a bunch of my classes. he’s super smart and polite and he always knows how to make me laugh. and he has such pretty eyes,” she sighed dreamily as her mouth formed into a lovesick smile. 
“well, he has that effect on people,” you grinned. 
i would know, you thought.
 “i say go for it! he’s not particularly interested in anyone, you have a good chance.”
“you really think so?” she asked, eyes wide. 
god, i hope not, you thought. as shitty as it was, you didn’t want jungwon to move on. you felt sick at the thought of him being with someone else. 
“why not?” you said instead. “he’ll be at the library after school today studying, i’m supposed to meet him, but i can just tell him something came up.” 
“oh my god, you’re the best!” she squealed, engulfing you in a hug. “thank you thank you thank you.”
“you’re welcome,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her, ignoring the green monster growing within you.
—----
it had been four days since your conversation with yuna. every time you saw him, you waited for him to bring up the date with baited breath- but he hadn’t said anything. not yet at least.
or maybe yuna simply didn’t ask him on a date. that’s what you were secretly hoping, at least.
it seemed hoping wasn’t enough. on the fifth day jungwon approached you from down the hall with those twinkling eyes and a bright smile you love so much, he seemed more energetic than usual with a little hop in his step. 
“you’re not gonna believe what happened today!” he exclaimed as he reached you at your locker. 
you could believe it. you were the one who hooked yuna up after all. yet you feigned curiosity as you looked at him quizzically, “what is it?”
“yuna asked me on a date! me! of all people! she’s so cool and smart and nice and pretty,” he said with a dreamy look on his face. 
you knew that look. the far away gaze as he thought of her. it was one you would never forget. it’s how he used to look at you. that lovesick grin and those twinkling eyes.
 it had never bothered you before when jungwon had crushes on other girls, because well, that’s all they were. they never escalated into anything more. looking at his lovestruck expression, realization hit that jungwon wasn’t yours anymore. 
you shouldn’t have thought of it that way. you should be happy for him! you should’ve been celebrating with him and cheering him on!  
you couldn’t help the bittersweet smile on your face as you replied, “oh, well that’s nice.”
his smile faltered slightly at your expression, concern slowly forming on his face.  
“are you okay?” he asked. 
“i’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, regaining your composure. “i’m happy for you! and don’t worry about spending less time with me, you’re gonna be a busy guy now! with a girlfriend…”
“okay, she is not my girlfriend. and even if she was, I would never ditch you!” 
“yeah whatever you say, loverboy,” you joked, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder. 
“no seriously, y/n,” he replied, softly. “are you okay with yuna and i being a thing? i just don’t want it to be weird because you and i used to be a thing, and i know we’re both over that but i just wanted to make sure-,”
“what, me?” you scoffed, cutting the boy off. “what you and i had wasn’t serious, it was just some dumb high school fling.”
even as you spoke those words, you knew they weren’t true. it was more than just a fling. you loved him and maybe you still did. 
silence hung between you, the hallway getting quieter as the remaining students scrambled to their classes, the late bell ringing, leaving you and jungwon in the hallway alone. 
he looked hurt at what you said. you immediately wanted to take it back, to say you didn’t mean it and that he was your first love and you didn’t want him going on that date with yuna. 
“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that,” you muttered, not being able to meet his eyes and instead turning to close your locker. 
“no, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he replied, as he started to back away, making his way to his class down the hall. “you’re right, it was just a fling, and honestly, it’s so weird to think of us as a couple.” 
it was like your world was falling apart around you as he spoke. did you interpret his hurt expression wrong? maybe this all was one-sided. did he not feel his heart breaking like you did? did he not wonder occasionally (or everyday) how his life would be if you were still together? did he not miss what you had?
maybe there really was nothing between you and jungwon but friendship. 
“yeah, so weird,” you awkwardly smiled, walking to catch up with him. “but you and i, we’re good, right?”
“yep, no worries,” he grinned back. 
“good,” you smiled. “so when’s your date?” 
his eyes brightened ever so slightly as you asked. he started to describe his date– how he was going to take her to the beach and have a picnic and play in the sand. 
you nodded along, your mind wandering off to when jungwon would take you on beach dates, burying him in the sand, splashing him with water and swimming away before he could splash you back. 
you looked over at the boy in question, his starry eyes wide as he talked about his date plans, his smile wide and giddy, his tone as sweet as honey as he talked about her. 
you knew you shouldn’t villainize yuna– she was a nice girl, a very nice one. it wasn’t her fault you were still in love with jungwon, and it surely wasn’t her fault that she liked him. it’s not like you could choose who you could fall in love with. 
you of all people would know. 
so you smiled and nodded along as you walked him to class, listening to him go on and on about his plans. you finally settled with the fact then and there, that jungwon would never be yours again. you had to let go. 
—--------
it has been six months since that day. the day that you had decided to give up. yuna and jungwon have been inseparable since then. 
he kept to his word though; still studying with you after school, showing up when you needed him, hanging out together. sometimes yuna would tag along, which you didn’t mind. she was fun to be around. 
you also didn’t mind being the third wheel when she was around, instead teasing the couple and even offering to take pictures for them. they were a lovely couple and they were seemingly happy– jungwon especially, and that was all that mattered. 
the school year was coming to an end, and seeing as it was your senior year, people were throwing parties almost every weekend. 
you went every once in a while, had some fun, did some underage drinking, even flirted with a couple of people. 
tonight was the party though. 
intak was throwing his first party of the year, and everyone knew his parties were legendary. 
you sat in the uber with jungwon and yuna, anticipating the night before you. you were excited, to say the least. the last time you went to a party was a  month ago, and you were ready to have fun. you even put on your best party outfit for tonight!
you arrived at intak’s house (or more like a mansion), and started to make your way inside until jungwon stopped you. 
“wait! before we go in, i think we should go over some basic safety rules!” jungwon exclaimed. 
you rolled your eyes with a small laugh as you replied, “only you would go over safety rules at a party.” 
“i’m serious, y/n, really bad things could happen,” he shot back with a pointed expression. 
“okay wonie, go ahead, we’re all ears,” yuna smiled supportively.
you ignored the slight heart ache at yuna using your old nickname for jungwon- the one you used when you were together. 
get it together, y/n you thought. letting go, remember?  
you instead smiled and nodded reassuringly at jungwon, who looked over at you to make sure you were paying attention. 
he sighed before continuing, “okay, i won’t be doing any drinking so i can babysit you guys all night. if you need to use the bathroom give your drinks to me so i can watch them. and y/n, if you leave the party at any point, for any reason, please let me know first.”
“sir, yes sir,” you muttered. 
“now let’s go have some fun!” yuna exclaimed, dragging the both of you by the wrists. 
you finally entered the house, where there seemed to be everyone from your school. even kids who graduated last year were in attendance, and as you searched the party for a familiar face that wasn’t jungwon or yuna, intak strolled over, a wide smile on his face. 
“you guys made it!” he shouted over the loud thumping of the music. he was wearing a letterman jacket with a white shirt underneath, and a pair of baggy straight legged jeans. the outfit looked so good on him that you had almost forgotten that you were talking to intak of all people. 
“you look nice, y/n,” he grinned.
you would’ve had a crush on him if he didn’t flirt with every girl he laid eyes on, and it seemed like his victim of the night was you. but damn did he look good right now. 
intak wasn’t a bad guy, he seemed harmless, not like the guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. he just always flirted, with no intentions of making anything serious. most of the girls he talked to never knew the latter though. 
but you thought it couldn’t hurt, you were here to have fun, and if flirting with intak was the way to do it, then so be it. 
you saw jungwon step forward, about to tell intak to back off and go flirt with someone else, causing you to put your hand on his arm to stop him. 
you also noticed how yuna examined the scene in front of her; jungwon trying to be your knight in shining armor, and you with your hand on his arm to stop him. her eyes narrowed slightly in thought as you dropped your hand and turned to intak. 
“why don’t you get me a drink and then we can talk?” you smiled dazzlingly. you usually reserved smiles like that for when you wanted to flirt and get wasted, and just as usual, it worked like a charm.
“i’ll be right back then,” intak smiled, before making his way through the crowd of bodies in search of a drink for you. 
“really, y/n, intak out of all people?” jungwon questioned, arms crossed. 
“yeah, and what about it?” you replied, feeling slightly annoyed at his tone of voice. he had never acted this way towards you before, but you didn’t like it. it wasn’t his business who you flirted with. he talked to you like you were an idiot and you hated the thought of him looking down on you.  
yuna awkwardly stood between the two of you, not wanting to be in the middle of your fight, but not wanting to go off by herself at a party filled with people she barely knew. 
“‘what about it?’” jungwon mocked your voice in a high pitched tone. “you know how he is, don’t be dumb.”
“dumb? i’m here to have fun, jungwon, not to play third wheel again,” you snapped back. “and why does it matter, you’re not my boyfriend, and you’re not my brother, so it’s really none of your fucking business.”
yuna had been looking back and forth between you and jungwon, watching as you glared at each other, waiting for someone to say something. it was like watching a tennis match. 
at that moment, intak arrived, back with a red solo cup in hand. 
“a drink for the prettiest girl here,” he announced, handing the cup over to you. 
“why thank you love,” you replied with an innocent smile as you looked over at jungwon, still glaring at you, his arms crossed against his chest.
ignoring him, you took a sip of the drink you were given, your face scrunching up at the bitter taste. 
“hey intak, why don’t we go dance?” you asked, reaching for his hand. 
“that sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile of his own before you led him to the dance floor, leaving an enraged jungwon, and a slightly annoyed yuna behind you.
—-----
yuna had seen the way jungwon looked at you. she might have been a bit oblivious at first, but as time went on and she spent more time with the two of you, it became more and more apparent– jungwon had never gotten over you. 
at first yuna thought she could sway him, to get him to fall for her the way he fell for you. but it never worked. he looked at you like you were his own personal angel. no matter where you were, who you were with, how you looked, he was absolutely enraptured by you, and oh, how yuna wished he looked at her like that. 
it had been fifty minutes since your small tussle, and yuna and jungwon sat outside, occupying two pool chairs as he angrily took sips of his water. 
“it’s like she doesn’t even care, she just ran off with him knowing he’ll never want anything serious, knowing he’s gonna lead her on, and i swear when she comes crying to me, i’m gonna tell her ‘i told you’ right to her stupid dumb face,” he rambled, placing his bottle of water harder on the table than he intended to, spilling droplets in the process. 
“well, she’s young and single, and she just wants to have fun baby, there’s nothing wrong with that,” yuna replied. “and she has a point, you’re not her brother or anything, so why do you care so much?”
jungwon  looked up at yuna, not being able to ignore the bitter tone in her voice, “wait, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
“i’m not on anyone’s side, i’m just asking as your girlfriend why you care so much. because honestly, if i didn’t know any better, i would think that you were still in love with her,” yuna sighed, exasperated. 
“i am not in love with her, i like you!” he exclaimed, way faster than he should have. 
yuna wanted to believe him. she wanted to ignore every bit of doubt in her body and believe every lie he fed to her, but she couldn’t. not when she knew you loved him too. it was heartbreaking, really. to watch the person you love pine over someone else. but it was even worse knowing the feelings were reciprocated. 
“don’t lie to me, jungwon,” she deadpanned, feeling her eyes start to water with tears of frustration. “i see the way you look at her, and i know for sure you haven’t gotten over her. you have never once looked at me the way you look at her, and if you like her, just say that. just say that and we can end things here, without having to make this any more heartbreaking than it already is.”
yuna didn’t want to cry. the last thing she wanted to do was cry, but the feelings of anger and embarrassment had overwhelmed her, causing a few traitorous tears to spill. she was angry at herself for letting it get this far, for falling in love with a boy that she knew would never love her back. 
but she was also embarrassed. embarrassed that she had even tried to make an effort, that she had thought she could win him over. 
she wiped her face with the back of her hand, only for more to spill out, a sob fighting for an escape from her quivering lips. 
jungwon raised his hand to wipe the tears away for her, to cup her face and tell her everything would be okay and that he was sorry. but what was he sorry for? sorry for trying to keep you away from intak? or sorry that maybe yuna was right and he did still love you?
just as he opened his mouth to speak, you stumbled out, words slurring and barely able to walk as you stumbled your way over to them. 
“hey guys!” you exclaimed, as a worried intak came rushing out the house behind you. 
“oh god, y/n, are you okay?” jungwon asked, immediately walking over to your side to support your stumbling figure. yuna would have felt bitter over jungwon rushing to your side faster than he had ever run to hers. yet, despite the devil on her shoulder that told her to be petty, she instead felt worried for you. you could barely even stand up straight.
“what the fuck did you do to her?” jungwon asked, throwing an accusatory look at intak.
“nothing dude, i promise! she was the one who wanted to drink, she had like 5 drinks within the span of like, 10 minutes,” intak replied, panicked. “is she going to be okay? does she have a way to get home safely?”
jungwon looked from yuna to you, who was falling asleep just standing there.
“just take her home,” yuna sighed. “i’m not gonna make you choose because we all know who you’d choose every single time.”
“yuna it’s not like that,” jungwon groaned. “listen, i’ll bring her home, and then i’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk this out, okay? i promise.”
“okay, just get her home safe first,” yuna replied. 
you might have been the biggest obstacle in her relationship, but you were still a nice girl, and you had technically done nothing wrong, so yuna had no reason to want to keep you and jungwon apart. you were also wasted as fuck and there was no way you would be able to get home by yourself without something horrible potentially happen to you. 
jungwon grabbed his almost full water bottle from the table he was sitting at, muttering that he would “need it to sober you up”.
he gave yuna one last reassuring smile before he walked away, you on his back as he tried his best to carry you home. 
yuna sighed as she watched you go. she felt like something bad would happen today, something worse than her argument with jungwon, and she wanted nothing else but to go home and cry. 
all she could do was trust jungwon, even if she knew she already lost him, even if she knew she was never a contestant in the first place.
—------
jungwon almost did it. 
he almost carried you all the way home, but his legs felt like they were gonna give out once he reached the park near your house, and he decided then and there that he needed a break. 
he sat you on the playground set, sitting beside you with a huff. 
you were awake by this point, taking long sips of the water bottle jungwon had given you. you wanted to sober up by the time you got home, but it wasn’t really working, with your words still slurring slightly and your mind all dizzy.
the two of you sat in silence as you gazed at the stars and jungwon thought of his argument with yuna. 
maybe she was right. 
even now, as he glanced over at you, studying the stars, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his face warm up. 
“do you remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend in this park?” you chuckled. “we were so young then, it feels like forever ago.”
jungwon was thrown off by the sudden conversation starter, but still smiled, “yeah, i remember it very well. i felt like i was gonna throw up because i was so nervous.”
you turned your head to look at him and giggled as his smile grew wider. 
“what, what are you laughing at?” 
“nothing, i was just so in love with you then. i used to think that we would be together forever and ride off into the sunset in a carriage.” 
jungwon inspected you as you talked, trying to decipher if there was any meaning behind your words or if it was just the liquor talking. 
“i just thought we were some high school fling?” he half-joked as he nudged you with his shoulder. he didn’t want it to seem like he was serious if you were sobering up. 
he felt his heart start to race as he stared at your slightly flushed face from the drinks you had, your hair fluttering as a soft breeze blew by. you were everything that jungwon had ever wanted, and here you were, telling him how much you used to love him. 
wait, no, what the hell am i doing? jungwon thought to himself. it wasn’t fair to yuna. it was already unfair to her that he only started to date her to get over you. he thought that if he dated her long enough, he would stop loving you and love her instead. 
and he genuinely thought it worked. fuck, he thought. i’m such a shitty person. 
until he saw you with intak, flirting, dancing with him, laughing at his jokes, he had never felt so jealous in his life, and yuna had noticed. and she was upset, which was fair. what wasn’t fair was jungwon using her to get over you. 
use. he hated the icky feeling that word gave him. 
“i lied,” you muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
“what did you say?” jungwon asked, making sure that he had heard you right. 
“i lied,” you repeated, eyes on everything but him. “i loved you, and i think i still do.” 
your eyes finally met his as you continued, “you are everything to me, jungwon. i’ve been in love with you since forever, and i only agreed to break up because you said you wanted to.”
jungwon could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he searched your eyes for any hesitation, any sign that this was a lie, or some sort of joke. his heart beat so fast he felt like he was gonna explode as he looked into your eyes, so earnest and so genuine and so filled with love that he knew you had sobered up. 
you reached for his hands in his lap, interlacing your fingers with his. 
“i can’t keep this from you,” you breathed. “i love you, yang jungwon, and i know you’re dating yuna, but i just have to tell you that i love you, that i always have and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i don’t expect you to leave her for me or anything, but i can’t help it anymore. i love you, i love you, i love you.”
silence hung over the two of you as he tried to form a coherent sentence after your confession. it felt like suddenly his brain didn’t know how to make him talk, to make him say i love you too, or to make him do anything, really. 
a minute passed, and then two as jungwon searched your eyes with the same desperation yours had– desperate to love and to be loved by the person sitting in front of you. 
jungwon didn’t know who leaned closer first. he thought it was you but maybe it was him. he didn’t even feel like he was in control of his body as he leaned closer and closer, his hand moving to hold your face, searching your face for any hesitation, for any kind of doubt.
 you were so close that he could smell the perfume you sprayed before you left your house and the drinks that you had earlier that night. 
impatient, jungwon finally closed the gap between the two of you, your soft lips colliding with his. he could have kissed you forever, wanting to stay forever in time there. until realization hit him.
yuna.
he pulled away abruptly, your eyes still closed as you chased his lips with yours. he would have found it cute if he weren’t trying his best not to panic right now. he just kissed you. while he was still dating yuna. 
he thought of the look on yuna’s face if she found out– the angry, hurt expression that she had at the party, and even worse, the tears. he would break the poor girl’s heart. 
“i should go,” jungwon breathed, quickly standing up from his seat beside you. “it’s almost past my curfew.”
“wait, jungwon,” you said, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt before he could walk away. “i think we should talk about this before you go.”
“yeah, we can talk later,” he replied dismissively. “i just need some time to think.”
you opened your mouth to say something else– anything else to make him stay, but closed it as you saw he was already speed-walking in the direction of his house. 
you thought that you would lose him forever after your breakup.  you had almost lost jungwon once, and you were nearly positive that you won’t be so lucky to keep him this time. 
you felt sick to your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was from the drinks or from the events that had just occurred, but nonetheless you felt nauseous. 
you hunched over as you started to gag, your vomit flowing out of your mouth, tears streaming down your face. 
you wiped your mouth with your sleeve, rinsing your mouth out with water as you started to tear up. 
before you knew it, you felt sobs rising, your nose stuffed from crying,  your throat getting dry from the sobbing. the embarrassment and sorrow was finally catching up to you– all of the years of repressed love you felt for jungwon, all of the embarrassment from him leaving after you confessed, embarrassment from being a homewrecker– it all came crashing down on you. 
you couldn’t go home like this. you were sober enough to know that, with your tear streaked face, ruined makeup, and vomit smelling breath your parents would put two and two together. 
your hands shakily reached for your phone in your back pocket, dialing your brother’s number and waiting for him to pick up with baited breath. your brother was your only hope. 
“hello?” 
“chan?” you breathed into the phone. “i need to sleepover at your place.”
—----
yuna hated this. 
the waiting, the feeling of dread as she sat on her bed, awaiting jungwon’s arrival. 
the fight that had ensued was horrible, but she believed she made a valid point. if he likes y/n so much he should just go be with her, she thought bitterly. 
jungwon had texted her last night at around 1 in the morning, just to make sure she got home safe. yuna didn’t respond. she instead left him on read, still pissed off from the fight.
she used to get butterflies when he would send her texts to make sure she got home safe. but now she didn’t know if he did it because he liked her or if it was just out of common courtesy. 
yuna was about to just walk to his house herself before she heard a knock on her door. 
“hey it’s uh, me,” she heard jungwon’s muffled voice through the door. “is it okay if i come in?” 
“yeah, let’s get this over with.”
she couldn’t meet his eyes as he walked in, striding over to the corner of her bed. yuna hated waiting, but she now felt dread as the pair sat in silence for a bit, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. she had sat nowhere near him.
 usually she’d be cuddled into his side, but she instead opted to sit at the head of her bed, seemingly as far away from him as possible. she was worried that if she was too close to him, she’d crack; she’d look at his doe eyes and forgive him and that would ruin the entire point of her argument. 
“so,” she cleared her throat, interrupting the silence. “did y/n get home safe?” 
“yeah, she’s at her brother’s apartment. he texted me when she got there.”
 “‘when she got there?’ did you not walk her there?” 
“no, he picked her up from the park near our houses. but anyways, i have something important to tell you.” 
yuna felt even more dread seeping into her as he finished his sentence. she should’ve seen this coming from the start. here it comes: the breakup. 
“i kissed y/n last night.” 
yuna’s eyes widened in surprise. she had expected the breakup, yes. she knew jungwon was emotionally cheating, but now he was physically cheating? 
“wait, are you being serious right now?” she laughed in astonishment. she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man sitting in front of her. 
“i know it’s bad. i feel horrible, because an amazing woman like you should never be treated as horrible as i’ve treated you, and i am so so sorry,” jungwon started, tearing up from how bad he felt. “all of the apologies in the world could never make up for how i’ve treated you. i’ve made you feel terrible and i’m just making it worse by breaking up with you to be with her.” 
“i love y/n, yuna. and i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, or that you had to find out for yourself before i even knew. you are so so perfect yuna-,”
“but i’m just not perfect for you?” she replied, tears starting to form as she breathed those words. 
the silence that followed was more than enough to answer her question. 
she hated this. she hated this so so much. but she didn’t hate you, or jungwon. she just hated how love worked, how she had to fall in love with the one boy who couldn’t love her back. she hated that she gave her heart away to a boy that was never going to belong to her– not fully. 
she wanted to scream, to throw something, hell, maybe even hit him. she instead took a deep breath, composing herself before she said, “okay. go be with her then.” 
jungwon looked over at her, wanting nothing but to comfort yuna. he may not be in love with her, but he did love her, and he still cared for her. 
“i’m sorry, yuna,” jungwon said instead. “you’re an amazing girl, but you should never be anyone’s second choice, and i’m sorry for making you feel like mine.” 
yuna couldn’t even look at him, fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she wore. 
“just leave, please,” she muttered. 
she didn’t want him to see her cry, he had already broken her once, she didn’t want him to see her fall apart again. 
with a guilty expression, jungwon hurried away, also not wanting to see her cry again. he felt gross. he felt disgusted with himself for treating her that way. he didn’t like the person he was with yuna, and he felt sick thinking about how heartbroken she was; how she was so hurt that she couldn’t even look at him. 
—------
it has been two weeks since your kiss with jungwon, and you hadn’t heard a word from him since. not a single call or text, hell, he didn’t even acknowledge your existence when you walked by him in the halls. 
you had seen yuna around, but seeing as jungwon wasn’t joined at her hip like he used to be, you assumed that things didn’t end quite so well between the two. knowing that you were the cause made you want to never show your face ever again, especially because of the dirty looks yuna’s friends have been giving you. 
you were relieved it was the last day of the school year; you’d never have to see yuna again and feel the guilt at seeing the sadness in her eyes. 
you walked into the bathroom, wanting to wash your hands after eating your lunch, when you saw yuna, touching up on her makeup in the mirror. she looked at you through the mirror above the sink, before going back to her makeup. 
the tension was so thick you didn’t know if you should just leave or hide in a bathroom stall until she left. 
“i’m not gonna bite, you know,” yuna chuckled. 
you smiled back nervously as you started to make your way to the sink. 
“yuna i’m really sorry,” you sighed, mustering whatever courage and dignity you had left. 
“it’s okay,” yuna replied, finally meeting your gaze. “although it was wrong for you guys to have kissed, i saw the breakup coming from miles away. he was never mine to begin with.” 
you were taken aback just by how calm she was, with the way she spoke those words with such elegance and grace. she had every right to be angry with you, to yell at you and call you a homewrecker. 
“even if you did think you were going to break up, that still doesn’t excuse what i did, and i really am sorry,” you said, trying to project every feeling of sympathy and sincerity you could in that one sentence. “i’m not asking you to forgive me, or jungwon, but i just wanted to tell you that you really are a cool person, and you’ve always been so kind to me, even now. all of this for a boy, and he hasn’t even talked to me in the past two weeks.”
“wait, he hasn’t reached out to you at all?” yuna asked, confused. “i thought he would say something to you at least.” 
“did he say he would?” you replied, confusion reaching you as well. 
“no,” yuna replied, fixing her hair in the mirror. “i just assumed so because he’s in love with you.”
once again, you were stunned by her nonchalance. “he’s not in love with me.” 
“don’t be silly,” yuna smiled softly. “i can’t tell if dating jungwon was the best or worst six months of my life, to be honest.” 
“don’t get me wrong, he was a good boyfriend,” yuna backtracked quickly after seeing the guilt on your face. “he did the usual boyfriend stuff, and he really did try, but i could just always tell that his heart was always yours.” 
you couldn’t meet yuna’s gaze as she said this, your face hot with shame. you felt so bad for her, and you didn’t quite know what to say in response. 
“i’m sorry that things ended this way,” you finally said. 
“it’s okay, it was gonna happen sooner or later,” yuna replied. “but if i’m right, then you should probably go talk to him, he’s probably going insane with guilt right now over me, and over you. bro’s got a lot on his plate.” 
you gave a small chuckle at the last sentence, making yuna smile a bit. 
“well thank you for the talk yuna, but i’ve gotta go. i think i need to go find jungwon.” 
yuna felt her heart break a bit at the words, but she smiled anyways and said bye as she watched you leave the bathroom. yuna didn’t know if she was supposed to cry or feel happy for you and jungwon, but she did know that she was right. again. she knew his heart had always belonged to you. anyone could see that. 
—--------
trying to find jungwon was easier than you expected. he was sitting on a swing, at the park that you became his, then wasn’t his anymore, and then confessed your love to him. there was so much that had happened at this park that it made your head hurt a bit just thinking about it. 
“is it okay if i sit here?” you asked, motioning to the swing beside him. 
“of course you can,” jungwon replied. 
the two of you sat in silence.
“i don’t think we should be friends anymore,” you finally spoke up. 
he jerked his head to look at you, shock coursing through him. “wait, why not?”
you took a deep breath before saying, “i can’t be friends with you anymore because i’m in love with you. there hasn’t been a moment since i’ve met you that i haven’t been.” 
his heart skipped a beat at your words. 
this was it, this is what you’d been waiting for since the day you laid eyes on jungwon. but you didn’t think it would go quite like this. you sat there for a moment as jungwon studied you, and you wished he would say something, anything. 
“but did you ever consider how i felt?” he finally asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “have you ever considered that maybe i’ve felt the same way?” 
you felt your breath catch in your throat as he continued, “i’ve seen you everyday since we were five when your family moved in next door. but i didn’t really see you until freshman year, sitting in class by the window, your hair flowing from the breeze that came through, doodling in your notebook instead of paying attention to the lesson. and when you caught me staring, you smiled and waved, and i swear i fell in love with you that day. that day, i knew my heart would always be yours.” 
“so please,” jungwon pleaded. “please, do whatever you want with it. you could break it a million times over and it would still be yours.”
now this, this was exactly you had always dreamed of. 
you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, trying to convey all the repressed love you’ve had for him for years through the kiss. you loved him. you loved every single part of jungwon, every flaw, every imperfection, everything that made him him. 
“so does this mean we’re official?” jungwon grinned as he pulled away, a playful look in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling the heart eyes in your gaze and the way your heart melted just by looking at him. 
“took you long enough.” 
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imaginesbymonika · 9 months
Text
Red lights.
Plot: If guilt had a name it would be Dean Winchester.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x sister!Reader
Warnings: mention of violence, mention of Demon!Dean, needles, blood, fluff in the end but only a bit
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Everything happened so fast. So very fast.
The red lightning, which emerges from the lamps above you turns the bunker into a place you're unable to recognize. This whole situation has been feeling like a never-ending nightmare for a while and now it was also looking like one. Dean has always reassured you, that while the world around you was filled with ghosts and demons he would always look out for you. And you never questioned him. However, right now, you were hiding from him as if he turned into one of those monsters he swore to protect you from. You look up you can notice it in Sam's eyes. You're not the only one terrified of your oldest brother.
"Smart, Sam. Looking the place down. Doors won't open. I get it." His deep voice is echoing through the empty and cold hallways. "But here's the thing. I don't wanna leave. Not till I find you two."
Your relationship with Dean has always been different from the one you have with Sam. While the younger brother actually feels like a brother to you, Dean has always meant more to you. After all, he practically raised you since you were a little child. However, at this moment, while his hammer was destroying the door, you tried your best to still see him in all of this. He may be a demon, but underneath all of that hatred your brother had to remain… right? But it becomes much more difficult with every second that passes. You take a deep breath.
"Y/N.", Dean suddenly says and Sam instantly pushes you behind his bigger body. "Oh, come on.", you can see how a fake pout emerges on his face:" I just want to talk to my sweet little baby girl." For a moment he lowers his weapon as he stares you down through the shattered wood:" Don't think, that I won't also kill you. I can still sense my love for you, however, it is not enough for me to save you. But if you help me kill Sammy, I might make it quick for you." There's a ringing in your ears. "Don't listen to him.", Sam whispers but his voice is muffled and feels unbelievably far away.
Dean has never ever threatened you. Even when you were much younger and he had earned a beating from John, because of something that you did on his watch… he never ever threatened you before. It was something that seemed impossible to you. But now it had happened and it filled you with an unknown emotion.
"Come on.", Sam speaks and clutches your hand, bringing you back into reality. You two rush through the red hallways and after a minute or two you stop. Sam takes a deep breath and when he turns around to face you, his eyes widen in fear. You don't even have time to properly react before he pushes you to the cold ground. And when you look up, you make eye contact with Dean. His hammer sticking to the wall. It was hurled with such an immense force that it makes your jaw drop.
"Oh man, looks like I missed.", he says softly:" Can I try again?" There is a sincerity in his voice that makes your skin crawl. You nearly throw up. Meanwhile, Sam's knife is close to his throat. So close, it's almost making him bleed.
"Do it!", the oldest brother angrily hisses, his spit dripping down his chin. But Sam's arm just drops after a few seconds. You shut your eyes, not knowing what is about to happen next before you unexpectedly hear Castiel's voice. "It's over!"
You sit on the floor next to the door, your back is leaning against one of the shelves while you observe how Sam pushes yet another needle into your oldest brother's forearm. A weird emptiness has been filling you up for a while now, and while you should be happy that Dean is back at the bunker… you can't help but feel drained. "Are you okay, Y/N?", Castiel asks, and when you eventually tear your eyes off Dean's unconscious body you only nod.
Sam sighs:" He almost killed her." Castiel's eyes widen in shock, as his head snaps towards him. "He did what?" You want to defend Dean, but before you can answer someone groans. Castiel notices how you quickly get up from your spot, and softly nudges you to stand behind him. His grip on his knife tightens to the point where his knuckles are white. Meanwhile, Sam was slowly opening up the bottle with the holy water.
Dean lifts his head and when you notice his black eyes you can't help but feel sick. You quickly turn around and throw up into the corner. Sam and Castiel exchange a quick but worried look. The blackness quickly fades and when his normal eyes scan the room he takes one final deep breath. "You look worried, fellas.", he jokes, but no one laughs. You turn around at the sound of his voice, before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
Without waiting a second longer, you snatch the bottle out of Sam's hand and toss the liquid into Dean's face. A pleased sigh escapes your lips when you acknowledge that there is no smoke. "Welcome back, Dean!"
"How is he holding up?"
Sam, who is entering the room looks over at the angel. "Well, he is still a bit out of it, nevertheless, he is doing better." You look up from your book. "The whole thing really took a turn on him- he… he just feels really guilty." The last word leaves Castiels lips as a whisper as if he was hoping you wouldn't hear it. But you did.
A knock on the door catches Dean's attention and he shifts on his bed before sitting up straight:" Yeah?" He expected to see either his brother or Castiel, however when he makes eye contact with you his jaw clenches. "Hey.", you say and slowly walk into his room. You sit down on the edge of the bed. A soft but tired smile emerges on your lips and Dean mirrors it. "Hey."
"I just- I just wanted to check in with you.", you explain and your brother nods. A silence falls over the two of you and you clear your throat:" Remember- Remember when we were younger… you came back from a hunt and you were hurt and John was… god knows where. We didn't have anything in the fridge except for some eggs and cheese."
At that Dean laughs:" And you made me that god-awful omelet? Of course, how could I ever forget about that? My arm was broken and I had the worst stomach pains on top of that." Once again you both sit in silence before Dean runs a hand down his face:" I am so sorry, Y/N." The sound of his voice breaks your heart and you move closer to him:" It's okay, Dee." He just chuckles dry. You know that he won't ever believe you.
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stellaluna33 · 2 months
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I think about that conversation where Rory calls Dean "safe" a lot. Like, in what way is Dean "safe"? She, with the rose-colored glasses of nostalgia, is comparing Dean's predictability with Jess's unpredictability, of course, but Dean had also dumped Rory TWICE by this point (and would dump her again!) and blamed it on her both times! He blames every problem in their relationship on her, actually! How is that "safe"?! But I've been thinking about it, I think a lot of it comes down to Rory's issues with control. Rory as a character likes to have all her ducks in a row, everything listed and planned (though she occasionally veers to the other impulsive extreme, which is interesting). She doesn't like feeling out of control of herself, her feelings, or what happens to her. So, in contrast to how I might feel about it, Dean constantly blaming her and breaking up with her feels "safe" to her because she can tell herself that SHE chose the outcome of the relationship. Everything is her fault, which means SHE decided it would be this way. Dean broke up with her because SHE didn't appreciate him enough, and that was her choice! Dean is mad at her because SHE studied too much or talked to the wrong person, and that was her choice! Everything is her fault means Nothing is Dean's fault equals "Dean never did anything bad to me." If Dean yells at her, it's because she deserved it, which means that everything is the way it's supposed to be! Predictable input-> output. Safe. It's what she chose. Rory is in control of her fate!
And Jess... She could control absolutely nothing about Jess. She couldn't control how she felt about him! She didn't want to fall in love with him, and she fell anyway. She was simply overwhelmed by it, without her own consent. She couldn't control her feelings, and she couldn't control the outcome of their relationship either. Jess leaving had nothing to do with her! But instead of that being a consolation, it was terrifying, because that meant there was nothing she could do about it. Jess crashed into her life and her heart and then was gone like a summer storm, and she was just as powerless to prevent either one. And she had found that kind of thrilling once upon a time, but now he's lost and what's to prevent him from slipping through her fingers yet again? It's out of her hands.
Her feelings for Dean are manageable. They're not going to overwhelm her and make her feel out of control. He's nice to her, because when he's not nice, she deserved it. This is what "safe" feels like.
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noirleo · 10 months
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Oooo, can i plz hear all your jealousy HC for the bayverse boys? :3 hope ur week is going well!
oh my god yes
jealous turtles from most to least ◡̈
(all turtles + reader are adults ♡)
1. raph
c’mon, did you expect anyone else?
being a middle child with three brothers, raph grew up sharing everything he had—his food, his clothes, his personal space. so when he finds someone he has feelings for, he makes a point that he’s not going to share with anyone.
his brothers prefer to take more subtle, graceful methods of claiming their s/os when they feel threatened. raphael does not have a subtle bone in his body.
if someone tries to hit on you while he’s there, he will physically put himself in between the two of you, glaring down at his prey target until they take the hint (and probably flexing his crossed arms as he does so. he doesnt do all of that lifting for nothing).
vern tried to chat you up, once, when you first met. raph swiftly handled it, and you’re not exactly sure what was said, but vern now makes a point to keep a very conservative amount of space between you and him at all times.
a lot of his jealousy comes from insecurity—he definitely thinks you could do better, find someone you could actually walk around with, show off to your friends and go on vacations with.
so how does he cope? by proving his indispensability to you. when you date raph, you don’t lift a finger. need something from the top cabinet? he’s got it in his hands before you even have to ask. want to see a sold out concert? how convenient, he just managed to find some floor seats for you and your friends
don’t ask how he got them, it’s really best for everyone if you don’t actually know (both legally and ethically speaking).
asking someone else for help (god forbid you ask vern or one of his brothers, especially leo) will probably end up in some icy silent treatment and very short yes/no answers to questions that can only be cured by insistent apologies and lots of kisses
2. mikey
oh, our beloved little mikey
mikey spouts confidence, but much like raphael, he is deeply afraid that you’ll leave him for someone whose complexion is a little less green
while raph’s jealousy is defensive, mikey’s is pleading. he needs a lot of verbal reassurance that you’re his, nobody else’s
even when he’s not feeling jealous or insecure about the relationship, he just likes to hear you say it—and once you do, he’ll believe it wholeheartedly, all doubts and anxieties set aside (for the time being, at least)
when you’re around others (and even when you’re not) mikey is extremely physically affectionate, and probably will mention to anyone who will listen in a very unsubtle manner that the two of you are dating and really, really happy together, thank you very much
if you’re sitting, you’re sitting on his lap (or so close that you might as well be). if you’re standing, you can bet that he’s got an arm slung around your waist or your shoulder—just so everyone in the room is clear who you came with and who you’re leaving with
3. donnie
donnie’s jealousy is quiet. he’s much less outward about his feelings of jealousy than raph or mikey, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
when you mention a creepy guy from one of your classes getting a little too close for your comfort, he’ll nod and empathize; little do you know, he’s got the guy’s social security number, address, and name of his childhood pet pulled up on his laptop within seconds.
mysteriously, he doesn’t really show up for class anymore. rumours float around about some pretty shady things hes done being sent to the dean, president, and every RA on campus.
you confront donnie, and he just shrugs innocently. huh, weird, guess it’s a good thing you guys don’t hang out anymore then right? and then he’ll change the subject, but the triumphant gleam in his eye doesn’t go unnoticed
if someone starts to get flirtatious with you while donnie’s around though? all bets are off.
standing at 6’8 and made of pure lean muscle, donnie is fully aware of how intimidating he is, and it radiates off of him.
all it takes is one glare, leering from over your shoulder, and suddenly the person trying to flirt with you has some very important business to handle on the opposite side of the room for the rest of the night.
when you turn around to see donnie standing behind you, one hand on the small of your back, he’s back to his relaxed, smiley self
4. leo
leo is definitely the least jealous of his brothers. he’s confident, bordering on arrogant, and knows what he brings to the table.
i mean, c’mon. the barista who wrote their number on your coffee cup may be cute and share your taste in music, but how many times have they saved new york from an alien invasion? can they do anything to protect you in the event of a foot clan takeover?
didn’t think so.
communicating and trust are monumental to leonardo. right off the bat, he’s very straightforward about his intentions with you, and expects the same level of loyalty from his partner
leo’s trust isn’t easily earned so if he trusts you, then he does so completely and wholeheartedly. if you say that you and someone else are just friends, then he won’t think twice about it
that’s not to say he never gets jealous though. he’s just much more lowkey about it than the others
if you mention offhand being catcalled on your way to the lair one night, you’ll have a private escort for the foreseeable future
hes not big on pda, but you can bet that if he catches someone else’s scent on you, especially another guy, he’ll be extra cuddly when he sees you
he’ll for sure try to play it off though and subtly give you something that smells like him. oh, you seem cold, here’s one of his hoodies that he conveniently had on hand. go ahead and put it on. he’s just looking out for you, no ulterior motives here.
you see right through him, but you’re willing to look the other way for some extra snuggles.
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scoobydoodean · 4 months
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4.15 "Death Takes A Holiday":
SAM Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a nine-millimeter. DEAN keeps eating, speaking with his mouth full. DEAN And he's not a doughnut? SAM Locals are saying it's a miracle. DEAN Okay. SAM It's got to be something nasty, right? I mean, people making deals or something. DEAN You think? SAM What else would it be? DEAN I don't know.
Dean isn't acting like a partner—isn't bouncing ideas off Sam like he usually does automatically when Sam's found a case and begins engaging with him about it. He isn't offering Sam a single thought in his head. He's just chewing his food—playing the role of the dumb brother Sam so clearly wants him to fall into.
Sam made it very clear the previous episode (under the siren's influence) that he's stronger, he's smarter, and Dean is holding him back. Therefore, the role Dean ought to play is "dumb sidekick" who simply concedes to Sam's views and doesn't get in the way—who's not as brave as Sam (an epic lie) or as smart as Sam is (another lie of epic proportions) and shouldn't act like it by daring to contribute thoughts.
Dean isn't playing into this thinking because Dean believes Sam's nonsense about him, or because he doesn't want Sam to leave. He's playing into it to make it very clear to Sam that the follower/leader relationship he seems to want so desperately—where Dean hangs on his every word and never questions him—isn't what Sam actually wants at all. The partner he's benefitted from all this time is much better than a dumb brute who just eats his burger.
SAM puts his laptop in his bag. SAM Get that to go. DEAN looks down and doesn't move. SAM Come on. SAM stands up, picking up his bag. DEAN doesn't move except to chew. SAM looks at him, swinging his bag over his shoulder. SAM What? DEAN looks up and keeps chewing, then glances away and back. DEAN Sure you want me going with you? SAM Why wouldn't I? DEAN I don't want to be holding you back or nothing. SAM Dude, I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get past this?
This is exactly what Sam did at the end of 1.10 "Asylum"—after spewing a very similar list of Dean's "deficiencies" compared to him. He simply stated that he didn't mean it, and felt that was enough—and because he so blatantly lied, Dean saw there was zero point in pressing the issue. Dean treats Sam's hurtful words (that he knows Sam meant) the same way in 4.14. There is no point in talking about it if Sam is just going to lie.
This time, in 4.15, it's actually worse—because Sam was the one who pushed and begged for Dean to open up about Hell—saying he just wanted to help... and then in 4.14 "Sex and Violence", he took all the trauma Dean trusted him with and spit it back in Dean's face:
You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boo hoo. (x)
This is the second time Sam has taken a closely guarded secret of Dean's and deeply harmed him with it after begging and pleading and saying he just wanted to know so he could help. If I was Sam, and I actually didn't mean what I said in 4.14, when my full faculties returned, the very first thing I would do is reassure my brother that he is NOT weak and pathetic for being traumatized. What we get from Sam in 4.14? Not that at all.
SAM Dean, look, you know I didn't mean the things I said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?
It's said flippantly—the same tone he'd use after accidentally bumping into someone on the street. Sam's concern isn't sincerely reassuring his brother that his experiences in Hell don't make him weak. He just wants the matter not to be discussed. In 4.15, he worsens it, by making it clear all he cares about is how his own character is perceived—not whether Dean is actually okay or might have absorbed with words (even if they HAD been false). Sam’s sole concern is defending his character from "false" allegations. It's all about him being treated unfairly by Dean (who dares to not believe him... because Sam's been lying about everything) and how Dean is so terribly unfair because he hasn't gotten over it yet... which in of itself, only reinforces that Sam is lying about not meaning it. What he says here reinforces that he thinks Dean is overly emotional and fussy and his feelings are irrational.
I also sincerely doubt Dean asked him "a hundred times". I also doubt any of the times Sam "told" Dean he didn't mean it were any less flippant and self-centered than the first time. I wouldn't doubt Dean's been giving Sam a hard time, because he knows for a fact that Sam has been lying to him (he heard him talking to Ruby, Dean called her unlisted number in Sam's recent calls and she picked up) and Sam still refuses to admit it. Why wouldn't Dean assume Sam is also lying about not meaning anything he said? The very fact that Sam's hiding his contact with Ruby (after Dean worked with her and even attempted to thank her in 4.10 and also saved her life) reinforces that Sam's explanation under the siren's influence was real. He is leaving Dean out, because he thinks Dean is stupid and weak and is holding him back. They both know Dean meant every word he said, and so did Sam. And we'll have it confirmed for us that Sam meant it in 4.21. Saying Dean's asked him "a hundred times" is nothing than further invalidation of Dean's feelings—more assertions that Dean's irrational and his feelings are invalid and unfair and he's just being crazy.
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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months
Text
Everything
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Summary: Dumped by her boyfriend, Y/N goes home with her tail between her legs, praying that her roommate, Dean Winchester, isn’t there to witness yet another failed relationship. But fate doesn’t work that way, and what seems like the universe conspiring against her might actually be what she’s needed all along.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Warnings: angst, break-up, language, douchebag ex, Dean’s a bit of a dick at first, insecurities, heart to heart, frenemies to lovers
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: I’m so sorry. This summary is awful. I hope you enjoy whatever this is 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖
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The rain pours down, and thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. You laugh bitterly at how the weather reflects your mood. Rain soaks your hair and clothing, your feet sodden and squelching; the stilettos you’re wearing offer zero protection from the torrents of water falling from the sky and running down the sidewalks.
You’re grateful for it, truth be told. At least this way, no one knows the mascara that runs in black streams down your cheeks is from the tears you’ve been crying over that asshole. The asshole you’ve been dating for two months who just dumped you at your local bar while sitting next to his date for the night.
Fuck, how did this become your life? How did you become this gullible, desperate woman who keeps falling for these kinds of men? Men who date you and sweet talk you, saying all the right things until they get what they want from between your legs and then leave you for someone prettier. Someone younger.
Maybe the asshole’s right. Maybe you are the type of girl to have a fun time with, not the kind to take home to meet someone’s mother. But fuck, that hurts to admit and fuck, you lose more of yourself with every asshole that spews those kind of lines to you. If you’ve said it once, you’ve said it a million times. You’re done with men. And this time, you mean it.
You turn the corner onto your street and stop in your tracks. Dread settles in your stomach as you see your roommate’s car parked on the side of the road. He just had to choose tonight of all nights to stay home, didn’t he? That’s all you fucking need right now. You consider turning around and walking away. Hell, he wouldn’t miss you. You were meant to be staying at the asshole’s place anyway.
But, this is your home. Well, the place you live, at least, and you need to go there eventually. Might as well get it over with. Your lip trembles, knowing you need to face the one person you really don’t want to right now, especially in this state. He already thinks you’re pathetic enough as it is.
You walk up the stairs, dread settling heavily in the pit of your stomach the closer you get to the door. You cast up a silent prayer that the only reason Dean is home is because he’s got female company over. At least then, you can get in, grab some whiskey and get to your room quietly and unnoticed.
“Hey, what are you doing home so early? Thought you were staying at Chuck’s tonight?” Dean says from the couch, not even turning to look at you.
“Yeah, well, plans change. Why are you here? Thought you’d be chasing some skinny ass, barely legal bitch at the bar.” Your tone conveys pure disgust, and you curse yourself for it when he turns to look at you. And, of course, he laughs.
“What the hell happened to you?” he buckles, scanning your absolutely hilarious appearance. “You look like someone threw you in the river and left you to claw your way back out again!” Dean laughs, and you huff, desperately trying to stop the fresh batch of tears threatening to stream down your face.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Dean, there’s a torrential downpour out there.”
“Yeah, that explains the puddle at your feet, but not the rest of you, bitch,” he laughs, and that does it. You know he’s not being serious; you constantly hurl insults at one another, and it doesn’t usually get to either of you, but this time, it hits differently.
“The only reason I kept you around so long is because you’re like a bitch in heat. Always needing to be fucked. But that’s all you’re good for, and it grows old pretty quickly.”
Your eyes water, and your lip trembles. A sob escapes unchecked, and you wish the floor would open you up and swallow you whole. “I’m going to bed,” you mutter and turn to walk away.
“Y/N, wait,” Dean says, his face softening into concern.
“What, Dean? What? You wanna laugh at me more? Call me a bitch again, huh? Look, I know you don’t like me, but you know what? A little compassion can go a long way. Some humanity might make me actually believe you have a heart.”
Your mind replays every conversation you’ve overheard Dean having about you with his brother, his friends, and his conquests, and your heart sinks to the floor at how true your words are.
“Who? Her? She’s just my roommate. Baby, you don’t have to worry about her. We’re not even friends, and she’s not my type. She’s basically my live-in maid. She cooks and cleans for me and pays me for the privilege.”
“Y/N, sweetheart, what happened?” Dean asks, stepping towards you, frowning when you step back.
“Doesn’t matter,” you sniffle.
“Come on, you’re upset. Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”
“Why? So you can make fun of me like you always do? We're not even friends, Dean. Stop pretending you give a damn about me.” The hurt furrowing his brow surprises you, and you scoff. “Don’t look so hurt, Dean. I’m only repeating your words back to you. I’m the live-in maid, remember?” you turn and walk quickly to your room, slamming the door.
Whiskey will have to wait until Dean’s gone to bed.
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It’s been quiet in the main section of the apartment for over an hour now. It’s probably safe to assume Dean has gone to bed, and you can get the whiskey you’re so desperate to drown yourself in.
Leaving the sanctuary of your bedroom, you pad down the hall in your bare feet, trying to be as quiet as possible. Dean is a light sleeper, and he’d complained before about you waking him whenever you get up in the middle of the night suffering from a bout of insomnia.
“I was wondering when you’d come out,” Dean’s voice makes you jump as it rings from the small dining table by the kitchen window. He’s sitting in the dark, with just the moon’s light shining enough to see his silhouette. “I was getting worried,” he states, sipping from a tumbler.
“Oh, so you do have a heart?” you respond. It’s a bitchy comment, and you know it, but you’re in defence mode after Chuck. “Might want to show it once in a while.”
“Nah. Makes me look weak,” he chuckles. His joke caught you off guard, and you let out a little huff of laughter. “See? I knew I could make you smile!”
“Barely,” you quip back and sit across from him, grabbing the whiskey bottle and filling the empty glass Dean must’ve put on the table for you.
“What happened, sweetheart? You left here tonight looking stunning and happy, and when you came home—”
“I was crying, and you called me bitch,” you state, watching Dean’s head drop.
“Not my finest moment, I admit,” Dean says as he reaches for the bottle and refills both glasses. “I didn’t know how upset you were, and I was only teasing you. If I’d known that it wasn’t just the rain that made your mascara run, I’d never have said it, and I hope you know that.”
“I really wanna believe that, but you’re always saying hurtful things,” you say, draining your glass.
“The things you said earlier,” Dean nods. “I didn’t mean… look, Y/N, you’re a beautiful woman, and some of the girls I bring home get jealous, you know? I say those things to keep them sweet.”
You nod, thinking it’s a fair excuse. Dean does have a lot of women over, and you’ve pulled out the sting from more than a few of them.
“As for what I say to Sam and my friends, well, they tease me about living with a pretty girl and don’t believe me when I say we’re just roommates,” Dean continues. You have to admit that was also sound reasoning. It didn’t excuse it; he was still a dick, but you understood it a little better.
“It’d just be nice if you stopped for a second and thought of me as a person with feelings before you say those kinds of things in front of me,” you say, filling your glass again.
“Alright, sweetheart, I promise I’ll work on that,” Dean agrees, and you notice he’s watching you intently.
“What?” you ask, feeling uncomfortably exposed under his gaze.
“What happened with Chuck,” Dean asks again.
“I don’t want to tell you,” you sigh.
“Why?”
“Because it’s embarrassing,” you whine and hit your head on the table.
“Come on,” Dean says, topping up their glasses again. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise whatever it is, it won’t be as bad as you think.”
“I got to the bar, and Chuck was there with another woman. He told me we were over and that Anna was his date for the night. Then, to rub salt in my wounds, as I was walking away, he told me that all I was good for was a great time in bed. Always up for anything, like a bitch in heat.”
“And then you came home, and I called you a bitch. Y/N, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Dean takes your hand in his, and you can see that it’s a genuine apology, and he really does feel awful about it. “You know he’s wrong, right? You’re worth so much more than that?”
“I don’t think I am. He’s not the only guy to tell me that,” you shrug. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m done with men and dating.”
“You don’t mean that. You think I don’t know about all the romcoms you watch on Netflix? All those girly books you read.”
“Yeah, well, a fat lot of good they did me. I’m starting to see why people are boycotting Disney Princess movies because they’re filled with romantic disillusionment and give a false idea to women that their Prince Charming exists somewhere out there.”
“This is more serious than I thought if you’re losing faith in the Disney Princesses!” Dean chuckles, and it makes you smile slightly. “Seriously, though, I think this is more about the men you date than you, sweetheart. They are way out of your league.”
“I am not out of anyone’s league, Dean. If anything, it’s probably the other way around,” you huff a bitter laugh.
“I’m out of your league,” Dean says quietly.
“You have that backwards. I’m the one out of your league. You’re gorgeous and charming, and I have seen the girls you bring home, and they are the most stunning women I’ve ever seen. I can’t compete with that.” The words spill out of you before you can stop them, and you think Dean might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell when the only sliver of light comes from the moon shining through the kitchen window.
Dean laughs, and it takes you aback slightly. “I have called you beautiful or some other variation of it several times tonight, and not once have you picked up on it. Those women are hot, sure, but you… You are on a whole other level of hot. You are stunning and so much classier than they will ever be.”
You scoff at his words, not believing them but not wanting him to know they affect you. You know Dean’s type, and it is definitely not you. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better, Dean.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. There’s a reason Sam and Cas and Benny are on my case so much about you, and it’s because I really, really, like you—”
“So, all the insults and barely tolerating my presence was what,” you smirk over at him, “you pulling my pigtails and pushing me over in the playground?”
“When you put it like that…” Dean cringes. “I guess it was. Look, you’re hurt and sad, and we’ve had a lot to drink, so I’m not going to push you to tell me if this is one-sided, but I will talk to you tomorrow when we’re both sober.”
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The warmth of the sun wakes you, and you stretch in its gentle heat. You’re not nearly as hungover as you should be, and for that, you’re grateful. Dean had some interesting things to say last night, and you’d rather your brain was running at full capacity.
Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen, mindful that Dean’s door is closed, so it’s likely he’s still sleeping, and start the coffee machine. 
You busy yourself with clearing up from the night before. You rinse dishes, put them in the dishwasher and put the almost empty whiskey bottle back in the cupboard. You grab your and Dean’s favourite mugs and place them next to the coffee machine.
Taking the cleaning spray, you spritz all the surfaces and wipe them down while patiently waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.
“How did I manage to find the only person in this city who likes cleaning?” Dean’s groggy voice sounds from the doorway, and you smile.
“Morning, Dean,” you say as you pick up the coffee pot and fill his mug. You place it on the breakfast bar and fill your own before hopping onto one of the stools and making yourself comfortable.
“Morning, sweetheart. Thanks,” Dean says as he picks up his mug and takes a sip. “So, about last night…”
“Wow,” you chuckle. “Straight to the point, huh?”
“I’ve wasted enough time, and now that my feelings are out there, I can’t sit on this any longer,” Dean pauses to take another mouthful of coffee. “I meant what I said. I like you, Y/N. I’m sorry if anything I did when I was in denial of my feelings hurt you. And I’m sorry for pushing you away and making you think I hated you so you wouldn’t find out how I really feel.”
“Dean, I don’t know what to say,” you say. “I used to like you in that way, but with how you were with me, I turned it off because, for the past year, I’ve been thinking you don’t like me, and I don’t know if anything is still there for you.”
Dean nods, looking a little deflated by your words, but it’s clear he accepts them. “Can I at least try and make you get it back?”
“I don’t know—“ you begin, but Dean cuts you off.
“Please, Y/N. One date is all I’m asking for,” Dean begs, and you feel your resolve waning. You know you still have feelings for him.
“I’ve seen the girls you bring home, Dean. And I’m nothing compared to them,” you try. It’s your last bit of fight, the last time you’ll be able to give him an out from this.
“You’re everything, Y/N. And I mean that. You are smart, funny, kind, beautiful… you’re everything they weren’t. Please,” Dean begs again. “Just one date. Let me prove it.”
“Okay,” you nod with a small smile.
“Yeah?” Dean says, breaking out into a boyish grin.
“Yeah. I’ll go on a date with you, Dean.”
“Awesome!” he grins, looking like he just answered the million-dollar question. “I promise you won’t regret it!”
Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720
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pagannatural · 2 months
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2.01
In My Time of Dying
-Dean looks like he’s witnessing a miracle when he first sees at Sam at the hospital.
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-Sam can hear and/or sense Dean at least three times while Dean’s unconscious. He’s the only one. He can’t do this with anyone else at any point. Further evidence their connection is metaphysical.
-Dean references Ghost, a movie about a woman and the ghost of her lover. 👀
-Sam is appalled that John can think of anything but Dean when Dean might die, but Sam was ready to blow right past the possibility of saving John in order to get revenge last episode. One thing about Sam is that he really loves Dean more than anyone else and he won’t say it, but it comes out at times like these. I think Sam would feel pathetic if he actually said it.
-Sam is unwilling to entertain the idea of Dean dying. He sees the car and says that when he gets better he’s gonna want to fix it, and Sam knows his brother because he’s absolutely right.
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He won’t let Bobby scrap Dean’s car, which is a metaphor for Dean’s life. Sam is ready to accept whatever condition Dean wakes up in. It’s also cute that Sam sees the impala as Dean’s, not John’s. It makes me wonder how many drives Dean took Sam on when they were younger, if Dean often snuck him away for little hang-outs like the fireworks. If they started lying on the hood looking at the stars when they were teenagers.
-That moment Sam says “felt like Dean” is this moment in the hallway outside of Dean’s hospital room
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so what Sam is feeling as Dean is this reassuring, caretaking, determined presence promising not to leave him and promising to fight.
-The spirit board scene is one of my favorite scenes ever. What is it about this scene? There’s this sweet innocence to it, and the fact that they’re reaching across a veil to communicate because they just can’t let go of each other. It makes their relationship look really intimate and separate from everyone else. Sam saying “don’t make fun of me,” Dean grumbling that he feels like he’s at a slumber party, Dean sitting across from Sam and watching him. That moment when Dean touches the planchette, Sam is so happy to actually feel him, and Dean is in awe that he can. They need this contact.
Sam goes “it hasn’t been the same without you, Dean” and then the planchette moves and he says “Dean, what?” and then “Dean is it after you?” Sam really likes saying Dean’s name. He says it all the time. People like saying their crush’s names.
-Sam sits on Dean’s bed, his knee against Dean’s leg, and looks at Dean’s face. Ghost-Dean stands next to Sam, looking at Sam’s face. There’s something really intimate about them gazing at each other like this, with Sam not knowing Dean is looking at him too. They wouldn’t be talking so intimately if Dean were lying there looking back at Sam. Kind of like when you’re talking to someone before bed with the lights out and it feels easier to say what you mean.
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-“We were just starting to be brothers again.” If this is them just getting started at being brothers again I would kill to see what they were like at their worst closest.
There’s so much in the word “brother” for them. It comes up over and over. I don’t think they ever do this with any other relationship word- neither ever tries to explain their love for John by saying “he’s my dad” with tears in their eyes. It’s like a sacred title. There’s no way they can express what they are to each other, so they use this word that’s only ever applied to each other and that carries their whole history.
The point their relationship has reached now is that Sam trusts Dean completely, Dean needs Sam, and they’re each others’ top priorities. Were they like that right up until Stanford or did something happen before then?
John wrote in his journal about them not getting along as well as they used to when Sam gets into his teens, and speculates that it’s from living in Dean’s shadow. But John was also aware that his boys had their own world that he didn’t have access to, and even very attentive parents often miss quite a bit of what’s going on with their teenage kids.
What we see in teen-era flashbacks is a Sam who resents Dean for being “cool,” a Dean being protective of Sam but also respectful. We see a girl who’s dating Dean only because she thinks maybe he’s not as much of a tool as he seems based on how sweet he is to his little brother. We have Dean and Sam burning down a field when they sneak away to light fireworks, Sam wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist in delight. And we have Sam only wanting to talk to Dean about a case over the phone-not John- and asking for Dean’s advice. They were still close. We know Sam ran away from home once and Dean was out of his mind worried before finding him.
And based on “Providence” Sam and Dean both know Sam feels some type of way about Dean, which would’ve happened pre-Stanford.
And then Sam didn’t tell Dean about Stanford and they didn’t talk for years and Dean thinks Sam must hate him and Dean hates himself but Sam looks at him like a puppy in love. And now “we were just starting to be brothers again.” I wonder what happened for them to both know why Sam isn’t interested in dating when he’s with Dean, and if it had to do with this.
-Sam asks “can you hear me” to an empty room- Ghost Dean isn’t there. It shows how alone Sam feels without Dean.
-Dean objects to dying because he thinks Sam will die without him. This would be an insane thing to think in any other circumstances but I can see why he would think that (see: the babysitting years, the fire at Stanford, etc).
-Sam loves Dean so ferociously. He fights hard for him. He’s protective of Dean to John the whole episode, and it makes me think he’s always been mad at John not just for himself but for Dean too.
-John tells Dean he will have to either save Sam or kill him. Dean’s contract with John previously was always to save and care for Sam. Now saving him has a different and more religious meaning.
-So John thanks Dean for taking care of both him and Sammy, tells him he may have to kill Sam, and then dies. Iconic.
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atinylittlepain · 20 days
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Part Two
no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc
series playlist
joel miller masterlist
series masterlist
She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.
word count | 5.1k
chapter content info | 18+ little angst, couples counseling, just two tired people trying to figure out the tangle of their relationship together
a/n | part two is here, and i'd just like to say thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part - i know this isnt the usual peepaw fare, so thanks for giving her a chance - and also big thank you to @wannab-urs for beta-ing this bad boy <3
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This is not a failure. She is not failing. They are not failing. Every Thursday at four o’clock she shuts her laptop and locks her office and stops in the bathroom at work, silently repeats these things to herself in her mind while she rubs her fingers at smudged mascara in the bathroom mirror. Like a mantra, though she’s not sure she’s fully bought into it yet. Because the truth is, she has had plenty of conversations with plenty of girlfriends that, really, they shouldn’t have been having about other girlfriends, not in the room with us girlfriends who, did you hear, started going to therapy and, did you hear, started going to therapy with their, oh no, husbands. Yes, she has been the bitch who has made jokes about death knells and a marriage’s last gasp for breath, jokes about the husband having the emotional range of a goldfish, and the wife being so up the husband’s ass she should give him a colonoscopy while she’s at it. She’s not really making jokes like those anymore. 
She’s not supposed to be doing what she’s doing this Thursday at four o’clock. When they first went to Vicky (LMFT, for the record) her fundamental decree had been a period of full separation. Sixteen years, she had asked, and they had nodded, and she had said whoa boy, yeah, y’all need to back off each other before we do anything else. If Paula Dean had a penchant for self-help instead of butter, she’d be something like Vicky. And so, with all the care of a drill sergeant delivering commands, or a mechanic running a diagnostic on a fucked-up car, Vicky had told them how this is going to go. An apartment, she said, don’t care which one of you lives in it. Minimal contact between sessions, right, keep it civil, right, this isn’t for forever, right. So Joel got an apartment, and Tommy helped him move all the furniture in the basement with admittedly minimal, but still present, wariness, and for the last four weeks they’ve been doing everything their beloved herr-therapist tells them. She supposes it’s working, although you can’t really do much fighting when you only see the other person for ninety minutes every Thursday so, the results might be confounded, actually.
“Hey there.” Hey there? What the fuck, what the actual fuck. He doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her, ever, maybe not to anyone actually. He feels a little insane, a little itchy under the skin, mouth full of cotton, brain too, because they’re not supposed to be doing this, not really. The first time she’s seen the apartment, or, well, the doorway of the apartment, doesn’t really seem interested in stepping further inside, running her curled palm up and down the strap of her purse and right, not here for that. He shuts the door behind him and then they’re on their way to therapy because it’s four o’clock on Thursday and this is what they do now at four o’clock on Thursday.
“Thanks again. I didn’t think my car would still be in the shop today.”
“Oh of course, you said it’s a transmission leak?” 
“Yeah, the bad, expensive kind that’s above my paygrade. Guy said they’re still waiting on a part for it.”
“Well I’m off work tomorrow if you need a ride anywhere.”
“Vicky’ll get pissed.”
“If she finds out. Are you gonna tell on me to Vicky?” It’s a joke, they can joke, right? She laughs a little on the end of her words to make it clear, hey, it’s a joke, awkward and out of touch and unsure of what the rules are. But he offers a breath of a laugh, at least, fine, it’s fine, they’re fine, and now they’re silent driving to Vicky’s office. 
Should he ask her how her week has been? If the kitchen sink is still leaking? He’s not sure. Not sure about any of it, really. Every week, Vicky asks them how they think they’re doing and Cass doesn’t even hesitate. Good, she says. Not fine, not okay, but good, usually with a sure, terse nod. It takes him a little longer to find the right word to describe how he’s doing. Not sure about that either, but it’s definitely not good. Some things are better, sure, easier not to argue when under foot, easier not to remember all the ghosts they’ve built up around themselves. But at the most basic level, he misses her, even misses arguing with her, in a perpetual state of missing something, walking around and wondering if he left his wallet at home, or if he remembered to call a client about a new build, wondering if he’s missing something essential, a limb or an organ he didn’t know about. No, none of that. Missing something else.
“You’re not wearing your ring.” She flexes her left hand over the steering wheel in response, her very bare ring finger making him feel a quick pinch of something he’ll call anger, though it’s probably something else entirely. 
“No, Vicky advised I try not wearing it during the separation.”
“Why the fuck would she tell you to do that?”
“Joel.”
“I’m just asking.”
“You’re swearing.”
“Well, why didn’t she say the same thing to me?”
“Maybe because I told her this is how you would react.”
“I think I’m having a pretty normal reaction to it, actually.”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s just for now.”
“Right.”
“It is.” 
“Seems like a strange thing to advise someone to do when they’ve been married for nearly two decades.” She parks outside of the office complex that Vicky works in, lets out a long sigh through her nose and doesn’t spare him a glance as she reaches around to the backseat and pulls her purse up front, producing her ring from somewhere deep inside of it and sliding it back on her finger. 
“There, are you happy now?”
“Why the hell were you keeping it in your purse?”
“Oh my god, really?”
“That’s a real easy way to lose it is all I’m saying.” The truth is, she’s been keeping it in her purse in order to have easy access to it. Like a pulsepoint, sometimes she just needs to know it’s there, reaching into her purse underneath her desk and yep, still there, still okay. Sometimes she doesn’t get through a whole day without putting it back on. Like reflex, like ghost limb aching. But she’s not about to tell him that.
“Do not bring this up with Vicky.”
“Why not?”
“Because then she’ll know we drove here together.”
“You’re that worried about what Vicky thinks?”
“She’s our therapist, I’m a healthy and appropriate amount worried about what Vicky thinks.” 
“You know she’s not the arbiter of marriage just because she has a couple of degrees, right?”
“Really, the arbiter of marriage?” 
“Are you doing that thing you do, is that what this is?”
“What thing?” 
“Cass.”
“What thing?”
“Are you trying to win therapy?” Fuck him. No, really, fuck him. He’s doing that thing, his thing to her thing, half a smile in the passenger’s seat like he’s got her. Awful, of course he’s got her, smug and sure in his getting her. She doesn’t answer his question, knowing that her silence is an answer in and of itself and not really caring because they have therapy, damn it, and it’s going to be his fault if they’re late to therapy, damn it.
“You know, I’m starting to see why Vicky told us no carpooling to sessions.” Slammed shut, he sighs when she gets out of the car, thinking idly to himself that yes, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with that commandment of their therapist either. At the very least, Cass’ ring is still on her finger. He tried a few times in the past to get her something new, something nicer than the gold band he had given her when they were still young and still not able to afford much of anything, but sure enough in each other to want to keep doing it, all of it, together. No, she would tell him, doesn’t want anything other than the gold band. What she doesn’t know is that he pawned his grandfather’s watch and an electric saw for the ring the shop owner kept in a padlocked display case. Twenty-six years old, and looking back, he thinks he would have sold a whole lot more just to get it for her. 
He used to call her pearl. Something about grit that would make her roll her eyes and ask him what late night National Geographic TV special he got that line from, all the while inwardly swooning because sure, she had been baby before, babe, an errant sweetheart even, but pearl was new, and tooth-decayingly sweet. And when he proposed, Sarah bouncing around them like a manic cupid, Cassandra made an ugly sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry, little black velvet box and a ring that was more signet than wedding, simple and gold and a single pearl set in the center of it. Her hands clasped, she runs the pad of her finger over her ring, wordless and worrying it on the elevator ride up to Vicky’s office. 
Vicky has a thing for lamps and art prints of naked women. Her waiting room is a little dim, no windows, green velveteen loveseat and two high-backed wooden chairs that they always take when they get here, his eyes scanning over the coffee table laden with back-ordered Psychology Today magazines, headlines about overcoming anxiety and exercising your way out of depression. There had been one about postpartum  depression somewhere in the pile the last time they came, but he had made a point of hanging back after Cass left, some excuse about checking an insurance thing with Vicky, though what he really did was pluck out that magazine and throw it away in the men’s restroom down the hall. One less thing to worry about, at the least. 
“Hi, you two, come on back.” The sessions always start the same. Vicky asks them how they think the week went, and they both offer up some iteration of fine. Vicky asks them if they’ve been upholding their phase of separation, and she answers before Joel can, pointedly not looking at him, yes, no contact between sessions. But apparently, this week is going to be different.
“We are nearing the end of the total separation phase. After this initial period of cooling off for both of you, the real work can begin.” Right, phases, because Vicky works in phases like this is some sort of military siege. He tries not to roll his eyes at the real work beginning. 
“Can either of you remember the last date you went on together?” 
“It would’ve been in August, right before the separation.” Cass scoffs at his answer, tilt of her head like, really?
“Tommy and Maria’s baby shower hardly counts as a date. But we did go to dinner at the end of July.”
“I don’t think your work banquet counts either.” Vicky hits them with that look, that yeah, that’s what I thought look, all raised brow and scrunched nose and nodding. Not that she is, but if she, hypothetically, were trying to win therapy, Cassandra thinks she wouldn’t be doing a great job of it right now.
“Right, well, you’ve made my point for me. It’s not unusual for people who have been together for as long as you two have to let things like this fall to the wayside. However, it can be very helpful to reestablish some of these routines. Think of it as marriage maintenance.” 
“So you want us to start going on dates again?” 
“Yes, but not with each other.” Did she? Did he? Hear that right? Cass is nodding like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, like, yes, of course, this is just the solution they’ve been looking for. This time, he doesn’t hold back a laugh.
“I’m sorry, what?” Both of them look at him like, yes, keep up, please, let us explain this to you very slowly so you can keep up, please. Something about seeing what life is like outside of their marriage, testing the waters, seeing if they still like the same things without their extra marital limb, something about making a decision about their marriage, though he tunes most of that part out because, no, thanks, no new decision has been needed since he got down on one knee during that trip to Galveston, sunscreen and sticky sweet and he’s not sure if he or Sarah was more excited, but he was definitely more nervous. And Cass said yes, and then he wasn’t nervous anymore, not scared anymore, and that’s all there was to it, is to it, right? Right. 
“This is the closing exercise of the total separation phase. It’s really important that you both have this opportunity to see what it’s like to be back in the dating pool. Think of it as a trial run of if you decide to make this separation–”
“No, no thanks. That’s not– we’re not those people, so, you know, we can just move onto the next phase.” 
“Joel.” The mom voice of all things, and he knows for certain now that Cass is trying to win therapy, nudging her shoe into the side of his, and, come on, really? She’s really bought that hard into what Vicky’s selling? Now that, that isn’t like her, at all. 
“What feelings are coming up for you right now, Joel?” She fucking hates that question, and she imagines that he does too, fingers drumming on his knee, long sigh, and she knows that look, that’s his getting ready to bolt look. Big man, big, skittish man who has accidentally nailed his fingers to house frames and hardly shed a tear. But feelings? Yeah, forget it. 
“Uh, I guess I’m confused as to why that is so important for us to do. We came here to help our– to help us, not to create more problems.”
“And you think that if you and Cassandra went on dates, one date, with other people, that it would create more problems in your marriage?” Well, it’s hardly rocket science, Vicky, though judging by the way she’s speaking to him, he’s pretty sure he failed some kind of test of hers. He doesn’t particularly care.
“I imagine it’d do that to anyone’s marriage.” 
“It’s just one date, it’s a part of the process.” She’s starting to get pissed, and trying very hard not to show it in front of Vicky should she get the what feelings are coming up for you treatment. When they agreed to start going to therapy, like a pair of dogs gagging down a pill, they had both agreed to put their full effort into it, and if Vicky wasn’t in the room with them currently, Cassandra would sharply remind him of that agreement. 
“Maybe I should clarify the expectations around this exercise. It’s one date, preferably with people outside of your shared social circle, and it would be best if the focus is just on the date, no sexual relations.”
“Oh really, you think that’d be best?”
“Joel.” He gives her a slack and slanted look, speaking two different languages, apparently. And really, she doesn’t see what the big deal is. One date versus sixteen years is pretty obvious math for her to square up, though it doesn’t seem to be for him. But, watching him engage in psychological tennis with Vicky, some new jab dripping in sarcasm for every reassurance she tries to offer him, the realization comes to Cassandra slowly, simply. Joel is scared. 
By the time they leave Vicky’s office, he feels deflated, defeated, because yes, they are, apparently, going to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them, scheduled in three weeks instead of one to give them time to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them. 
“Can’t we just, you know, say we did it but not actually do it?” 
“Are you serious right now?” Judging by the look she gives him, a quick, sharp flicker of her eyes before she focuses back on the road, he thinks he probably shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t, but, well. 
“Is this about pleasing Vicky, or are you just that interested in dating someone else?”
“Don’t be a child about this, Joel. It’s a therapeutic–”
“It’s bullshit is what it is. I don’t– I already know what I want, and I don’t need to go testing the waters to be sure of it. What I’m not so sure about is if you can say the same.” She can’t put her finger on anything specific,  probably just a slow-building amalgamation of things. Stressful week at work, and the leaking sink getting worse, and her doctor increasing a medication dosage that’s made her body feel like something other than her body, and this fucking therapy and this fucking trying and she’s trying so hard and she feels like she’s failing and when she glances at him he looks hurt, really hurt, a close crumple in his face, deep frown, and it frustrates her because all she’s trying to do is do it right, and all she gets is this constant rhythm of resistance, this push and pull and yes, it’s all of that, all of that creeping up her throat tight and hot and curling behind her eyes sending salt pinpricks and sharp pangs. When the first sob breaks, it does so as a gasp, like a small and stunned thing in her chest. And, well, it’s never uphill from there, is it?
“Do you– do we need to pull over?”
“No, I don’t need to fucking pull over. I’m not an invalid, I can cry and drive at the same time.” Except it doesn’t come out quite like that, not smooth like that. The words get stop-started with each new shudder, new stutter, hiccuping on fucking and invalid. The world has gone to slanted stained-glass through all her tears. 
Unsure what to do, but that’s nothing new. He doesn’t say anything else, watches her through the wary side of his eye, sobs turning into something more subdued, little wounded sounds high in her throat, a choice fuck you with a little more bite behind it when someone cuts her off merging onto the highway. He feels useless, feels like, maybe, this is what Vicky should be talking with them about instead of her siege on marriage plan. All he knows is that he seems to get it wrong every time, so this time, he doesn’t interject or intervene, doesn’t say any more than he already has. He lets her cry, and he lets her drive.
He doesn’t know when it happened. When he decided he was going to fix things for her, or just fix her, really. His lady in pieces and he was going to put her back together, and it seemed like every time he tried to, she just shattered a little more. That April is the obvious answer, the most shattered he had ever seen her. But the fighting had started before then, and so had the fixing that wasn’t really fixing. Like a relief, like a release, the slow realization that no, it never worked, and no, it was never going to work. The sobs turn into shivers turn into something even smaller. By the time they pull up in front of his apartment complex, it has passed. 
“I just– I want to do this right, this therapy thing, and I want it to work, and I want it to work so we can be okay again. That’s what I want.” The words hang between them. He makes no move to get out of the car, and she counts her inhales in the silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like a child’s logic, or maybe a hail Mary, and she knows it, feels a little insane saying it, the words fitting strangely in her mouth. The brief wondering comes to her, what would she have said about where they are now to her girlfriends, what snark, what sharp jokes at their expense? Him in an apartment and a fifteen minute drive separating them and a woman named Vicky unraveling (and in theory, putting back together) their marriage in phases, fucking phases, and fucking Vicky. She doesn’t want to go on a date with someone else, and she doesn’t know why she’s taking Vicky’s instructions as gospel. But she does know, doesn’t she? It’s not about Vicky, not about Vicky and her fucking phases. Fixing, being fixed, that’s what she wants. 
“So, you’re saying you want us to date other people in order to fix our marriage.” Grateful that she takes it for the joke he meant it as, it’s just enough to slough off some of the tension, roll of her eyes, please. They both let out a sigh, too tired for much else. But maybe, he thinks, this counts as progress, sitting here with her in the car and the sun washing everything down burnt and orange. He watches her eyes drop shut for a moment, fine lines like porcelain fissures and he loves those lines, liked catching her in the bathroom with her face pressed up close to the mirror and her fingers pulling those lines taut around her eyes, her mouth. He’d pull her hands away from her face, ask her if she was planning her halloween costume for next year, earning a scoff and a roll of her eyes and her trying to pull away from him, and he wouldn’t let her. Making it better with kisses to those lines, and eventually, her pressing her fingers as light as prayers over his, an implicit wondering, where did the time go?
“Look, if it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just lie to Vicky. We could still get like, an A-minus in therapy if we leave just one thing out.”
“I didn’t realize therapy came with a grade.” He smiles, all soft, and she can’t help the sheepish bloom in her chest, rolling her lips back into her mouth to hide her own grin, eventually, reluctantly, admitting in a quiet, skewed to the side voice, okay, so maybe, maybe I was doing that thing, that winning thing. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s a mercy. Just nods, of course, and of course, he knew, maybe even before she did, and is that knowing not a mercy too? She thinks it is. 
“I want to do this right too, Cass. And, I mean, we’re paying Vicky enough money that we should do what she tells us to.”
“Are you saying you want to do it then?”
“Want is a strong word.”
“Okay, are you saying you’re willing to do it?” 
“It’s just the one?”
“Just the one.” 
“Alright, fuck it, let’s do it. We better get a goddamn A-plus at the end of this.” 
“Mmm, gold stars too.” Another sigh, another settling. How nice, another sigh, another settling. It’s a strange equation, but she thinks it still adds up. Neither of them want to do this, not really, but they’re willing to, and they’re willing to because of each other. Willing to try and get it right for each other. Just, well, ignore the finer details of what getting it right entails. 
“You hear from Sarah lately?”
“On Monday, yeah. Called to wish me a happy birthday.”
“Well, only off by four days, not too bad.”
“Oh no, she called on Monday because she was, and I quote, too busy the rest of the week to call.”
“Wow.”
“Right?”
“Is it bad that sometimes I kinda hate it?”
“Hate what?”
“That she’s like, a fully-formed person now. I miss the days when she was a little blob who liked holding onto me by one of my belt loops.” He has to smile, nod, because he knows exactly what she means. And the truth of it is that Sarah was so good, maybe the best, if he’s allowed to give his completely biased opinion. And the other truth, Cass is, was, one of those people simply meant to be a parent, a mother. He remembers when they first started dating, and all the exhausting maneuvering he did, getting his parents or Tommy to watch Sarah, a string of canceled dinner plans when his kid couldn’t seem to stop catching things at daycare. He was sure that Cass would lose interest every time another piece of his reality was revealed to her. After all, he was not unfamiliar with being left behind. But that never happened, she stayed every time. 
It was Cass who first suggested it. Didn't want to impose, but what if, maybe we could, would it be okay if, why don’t we. They went to the zoo that weekend, if he remembers correctly, Sarah in tow, shy at first around the woman she barely knew, though she bloomed over the course of the day. Yes, he thinks, it was the zoo, because he remembers how by the end of the day, Cass had her on her hip, as easy as anything, so she could get a better view of the rhinos. He knows now that, even in those earliest days, she loved his kid just as much as she loved him. He knows now what a gift that was, and continues to be. 
“She’s gonna be alright, Cass. We did good with her.” She sighs, yeah, we did. She had been worried about telling her about the whole lieutenant-LMFT thing, the whole quasi-separation thing, but that was a direct command from Vicky, letting the family know what was going on. Sarah had taken it surprisingly well when she called, could be good, mom, like a reset. Of course, they kept the worst of it away from her, and of course, she still knew something had changed, something not right between them. No one was left unscathed after that April.
From the start, loving him included loving Sarah. It was never difficult for her to do both. Sweet girl, bright like the sun girl, rounded cheeks and bouncing curls, and Cassandra found that her love for her had a particular effect on her heart. Whenever small hand reached for one of hers, whenever small face tucked into her neck, whether tear-damp or milk-tired, and eventually, whenever she was given the name mom, like a stop and restart of her heart, like something turning back on inside her and finally working right. An everything kind of love, to not only be chosen by him, but to be chosen by her too. 
“Well, anyways, Vicky didn’t make any stipulations about birthdays, so I have something for you.” Just a small thing, she says, leaning over the console and into the back seat, and he knows better than to say no, shouldn’t have, because there’s already a perfect package being placed in his hands, navy blue wrapping paper and a white bow, and her hand cups underneath his for just a moment, there and gone. 
The truth is she had already picked out this gift two months ago, what feels like a lifetime before this separation. Now, watching him open it, she’s a little worried it had been presumptuous of her, if not completely narcissistic. But if he thinks that, he makes no show of it, lets out a quiet laugh as he takes the watch out of the box and holds it up in the fading light to look at it. 
“It’s a little sappy, maybe. But, well, we have something that kinda matches now.” Something is unfurling in his chest, heat loosening something he didn’t even realize he had been tightening up around. It’s a beautiful watch, rich leather strap and polished silver. And the face of it catches and shimmers a little in the light. He knows right away that it’s mother of pearl. 
Here, she says, let me, and he does, feeling a little indulgent watching her fasten the watch around his wrist, and definitely breaking one of fucking Vicky’s fucking rules when he ducks his head down and steals a kiss, another one, letting the third deepen just a little, both of them humming because missed this, missed this, didn’t realize how much, but missed this. 
“Thank you, pearly.” It feels good to be so close to him, noses brushing and smiles curling around each other. Feels like a relief. 
“Happy birthday, one day ahead. We could, you know, do something tomorrow? Get dinner maybe?” Before he can answer, say yes, she’s already caught herself, sheepish smile and pulling a little further away and oh, right. She says sorry, wasn’t thinking, and they do an awkward dance around the whole thing, right, yeah, probably shouldn’t, right, yeah. He is not a hateful man, and it would be too strong to say he’d wish Vicky harm. But if something were to happen, in theory, that’d make Vicky go the fuck away, in theory, he wouldn’t be too torn up about it. 
“See you next Thursday then?”
“Well, next next Thursday, because we have to do the– yeah.”
“Right, yeah.” Right, yeah, this is the part where he gets out of the car. The part where he goes up to his apartment and she drives home and they don’t eat dinner together and they don’t brush their teeth together and they don’t go to sleep together. Right, yeah. They say goodnight. He’d like to say love, but he doesn’t. She’d like to say love, but she doesn’t. And they part ways. 
She hates being in this house alone. Leaves all the lights on all hours of the day and checks all the locks three times before going upstairs to bed. Passes by the closed door that remains closed with her breath held. She knows it makes no sense, but she’s been sleeping in the guestroom, makes the whole thing a little easier. Always had a tendency toward insomnia, tossing and turning brain and body. 
When they were just starting to get more serious, and she was just starting to stay over at his more often, she got worried that eventually it'd drive him mad enough for the whole thing to not be worth it, neither of them getting much sleep as they learned how to share a bed together. And she doesn't remember how it started exactly, maybe out of a moment of pure exasperation, him draping just enough of his weight over her to press slower breath into her lungs and still her body. It became a routine, she'd ask could you? And he'd already know what she was asking for without her having to say any more than that. What she also doesn't remember, when that stopped working, when she stopped asking, and he stopped answering. She supposes it all happened slowly, just like the rest of it. 
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Anti-destiel Wank (sorry but I have to)
If you hardcore ship Destiel, please just scroll on by. Please.
Ok, I'm gonna get myself in trouble, I'm sure, but I gotta get this off my chest...
Destiel may be a perfectly fine ship,
but,
IT'S JUST A SHIP.
In the actual context of the show there IS NO ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL TENSION/RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN DEAN AND CAS.*
Full fucking stop.
Subtext can be interpreted in ANY WAY YOU WANT. It is subjective. You will find whatever you look for in it. Please stop waving subtext interpretations around as if they were objective facts, they aren't. Subtext, by its very definition, relies on implied meaning and understanding, this means it is a subjective interpretation of the media that varies from viewer to viewer. The inherent variations are what make it fanon/headcanon instead of canon.
If you see tension of that sort there and it makes you happy to postulate the what if, then go ahead, that is what fanon and head canon and fan fiction is all about. But if the fact that the tension you think you see isn't being addressed in actual canon makes you grumpy, maybe you need to take some of the fanatic out of your fanning. If you are beginning to think the show creators are actively trying to repress Dean's "true sexuality and feelings" because they are evil, you might need to consider that you've dug in too deep.
Because, like I ship wincest. Yeah, I said it. But I am aware that canon doesn't actually include any level of sexual or romantic (in the modern sense) relationship between Sam and Dean. Wincest is not canon.
Now, are Sam and Dean the real "love" story of the show? Yes, yes they are. That has always been 100% the entire point of Supernatural, the great love story of two brothers struggling to save the world together. It's about family and everything that means, but at its heart, it is about Sam and Dean WInchester. Not all kisses and cuddles and sex kind of love, but love nonetheless. Full stop.
Now, the fact that Destiel is such a popular ship is not surprising to me in the least. Jensen and Misha are two gorgeous guys who share a lot of chemistry on screen and off. And, it is canon that Cas loves Dean. That has been evident since Lazarus Rising (4x01) when Cas was introduced. Castiel's love of Dean Winchester has been his character's main motivation all along and culminated with Cas sacrificing himself to save Dean, after telling him that he loved him in Despair (15x18)
But Dean's main motivation has always been to watch out for his brother. And though Castiel became Dean's best friend, he still comes second to Sam. Nothing against Cas, he just isn't Sam.
So why are so many people so absolutely convinced that Destiel is so real within the context of the story?
Well, I'm pretty sure that it is the same reason that they are so opposed to the idea of wincest.
As we all know, incest is bad, mmmkay? Incest is probably one of the biggest, strongest, cultural taboos we have. So it makes perfect sense that the idea of two blood-related brothers having sexual or romantic feelings for each other is considered icky. It's so off putting that it is a complete no go for even fantasizing about for most people. And that's probably a good thing, tbh, incest should be taboo. But where does that taboo spring from? Why is it so deeply off limits? There are several reasons, but the two main ones are:
That incest can lead to inbreeding.
That incest too often involves molestation or rape of children.
Both of these are seriously bad enough that we all pretty much collectively agree to avoid incestuous relationships. But, do either of these two reasons really apply in the case of Sam and Dean?
The short answer is no. Primarily this is because they are fictional characters that are being played by unrelated actors. But to humor the objectors we'll look at it closer.
We can take the first one right off the table. As two cis men, neither of them is capable of becoming pregnant, so outside of the mpreg (male pregnancy) or gender bending subsets of fanfic tropes, this is not applicable.
The second reason only becomes an issue when talking about the characters earlier in their lives, pre-show or flashbacks. Weecest or teencest, or whatever, are things, but these typically have separate ship names for a reason, because even when dealing with fictional characters this squicks a lot of folks who are otherwise down with the wincest ship. So most content is tagged or labeled as its specific flavor, so anyone can find it or avoid it. But wincest that involves adult Sam and Dean (the specific pairing I'm referring to in this post) doesn't apply to the second reason listed above.
So there really is nothing morally wrong with Sam and Dean having sex with each other. I know that statement is going to bother a whole lot of people, but it is true. Just because something is taboo does not automatically make it morally wrong. Being gay used to be taboo in our culture, and is still taboo for way too many people, even though there is nothing morally wrong with homosexuality.
Now, I wasn't in the fandom back at the beginning of the show, but I've heard tell that the very first Sam/Dean fic was posted just a few hours after the pilot episode aired. A few hours, that's all it took for some highly motivated fan to type out a story where they were more than just brothers. The story is called Reunion. If you watch the pilot, even with your anti-incest goggles on, the chemistry between Jared and Jensen is palpable throughout. There is a reason the show lasted for 15 years, and that reason is that Sam and Dean just work on screen so well together. So if it only took one episode for that ship to be born, what did all the future destiel shippers do? Well I imagine they felt somewhat uncomfortable for the first 60 episodes.
Flash forward to season four and the introduction of Castiel. Finally there was another male character for fans squicked by the notion of sweet, sweet brother loving to focus on! Cas was clearly fixated on Dean more than Sam, which followed the plot since Cas had been instructed to rescue Dean from Hell. As it would turn out, the brothers were destined to be the meatsuits that Michael and Lucifer wore to the big prize fight to determine the fate of the world. Prepping Sam for Lucifer involved him consuming demon blood, which made most of the angelic host view him as an abomination, a factor that Cas had to learn to get past in his relationship with the younger brother. But Dean was ready to go right out of the box, no assembly required for Michael. Castiel, and many of his angelic brethren, as well as a lot of Demons, seem to be drawn to Dean in a way that they just aren't drawn to Sam. Is this fair? Hell no. But I mean, look at him! Jensen has sexual tension with literally everything he comes in contact with, people, food, his car, the man oozes sexual attraction. Don't get me wrong, Jared is a sexy fucking ball of sunshine, and our Sammy is a damned attractive man, but he tends to be more repressed and less openly sexual than his brother, so it is what it is.
Where was I going with this? That's a good question. I got a bit distracted, sorry. Oh right...
At its root, destiel is a reactive projection. There is undeniable tension between characters in the show. Since all of the main cast are male, that tension is highly homoerotic. The two main characters, who are undeniably emotionally enmeshed and co-dependent with each other (a very well established canon fact btw), happen to be blood-related brothers. Oh no! Where is all that tension coming from since we cannot admit or accept that it's coming from them? Ah ha! Here is a new male character that we like, yes, it is obviously coming from his interactions with one of the brothers, even though he wasn't in the first 60 episodes. Yes, it all makes perfect sense now, all that tension was merely foreshadowing.
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I've read through all the destiel subtext posts. I've gone back and watched all the scenes they reference multiple times with the express purpose of finding destiel. I'm telling you it is just a fanon ship. Which is 100% fine and good, ship that ship, just stop declaring it more canon than canon, because it's not.
And if you don't like fictional incest, cool, cool, you don't have to. But the underlying sexual tension existed in the first 60 episodes prior to Misha being cast on the show, so it was coming from somewhere. And it'd be cooler if you learned how to scroll past people shipping wincest, like I'm sure you do for all the other weirdass, squicky shit that people post all over the internet. But if it makes your heart beat a little faster to imagine that Dean and Cas have eyesex but that Dean and Sam don't, that's fine. I think it's delusional because neither ship is actually canon and both are 100% A-Ok in fanon, and honestly Jensen doesn't seem to be able to control his eyes, which is not something anyone should feel bad about (it's fucking marvelous) but you do you.
*Castiel does love Dean. He confessed as much, but Dean did not reciprocate. What I am referencing is a mutual romance or attraction, which does not exist.
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