#and Rowena is finally here

[as-days-fade-and-nights-grow]

Supernatural drawings (I can't get them out of my head!!! Help!!!) Dean but his pose is very weird, Castiel and pony Castiel

[sammygender]

tell me your reasoning in the tags/comments <333

[awaywardfatherswaywardson]

woww I forgot just how little we got of demon Dean, like I knew it wasn't for long but only three episodes is absurd we deserve more T . T

[flugame-mp3]

ROWENA MY LOVE YOUVE COME HOME TO ME

[zwei-rhunen]

nyeheheh only two tomes left uwu

[wildwestdean]

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch. 

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-” 

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation. 

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you. 

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together. 

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients. 

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back. 

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t. 

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands? 

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body? 

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. 

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around. 

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself. 

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode. 

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!” 

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room. 

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?” 

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind. 

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare. 

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you. 

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on. 

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.” 

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat. 

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now. 

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling. 

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily. 

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time. 

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?” 

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be. 

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”  

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. 

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!” 

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return. 

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again. 

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. 

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.” 

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room. 

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes. 

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression. 

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you. 

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!” 

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.” 

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.” 

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.” 

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish. 

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen. 

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?” 

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!” 

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!” 

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.” 

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!” 

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen. 

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table. 

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.” 

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort. 

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze. 

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head. 

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite. 

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food. 

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere. 

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin. 

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?” 

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?” 

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t. 

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly. 

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier. 

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.” 

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving. 

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle. 

“You alright?” you asked tentatively. 

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one. 

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.” 

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better. 

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation. 

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.” 

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. 

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table. 

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration. 

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.” 

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return. 

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.” 

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation. 

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.” 

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk. 

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously. 

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.” 

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively. 

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.” 

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.” 

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically. 

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.” 

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.” 

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.” 

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off. 

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.” 

“Promise?” you asked meekly. 

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further. 

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears. 

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly. 

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on. 

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously. 

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question. 

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this. 

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter. 

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you. 

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake. 

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day. 

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there. 

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam. 

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything. 

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore. 

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out. 

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs. 

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat. 

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.” 

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. 

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?” 

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” 

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave. 

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you. 

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards. 

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?” 

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.” 

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.” 

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words. 

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward. 

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response. 

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.” 

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.” 

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name. 

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.” 

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you? 

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.” 

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps. 

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker. 

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.  

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently. 

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly. 

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated. 

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation. 

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?” 

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her. 

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly. 

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?” 

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around. 

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!” 

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room. 

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief. 

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar. 

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room. 

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by. 

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car. 

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him. 

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door. 

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time. 

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward. 

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly. 

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.” 

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.” 

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.  

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet. 

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work. 

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.” 

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him. 

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-” 

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more. 

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.” 

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat. 

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.” 

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked. 

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?” 

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” 

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?” 

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.” 

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess. 

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?” 

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?” 

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.  

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down. 

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him. 

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.  

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?” 

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more. 

“You said-” 

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin. 

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low. 

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks. 

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips. 

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.” 

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

[sacr1ficialang3l]

my back arched like a cat.ᗢ⋆˚࿔

DEAN WINCHESTER X CATGIRL!READER

SUMMARY: A witch hunt gone wrong leaves reader with some unexpected furry features. dean wonders if the hentai gods have finally answered his prayers. 4.1k

WARNINGS: smut (MDNI). cat-hybrid reader. which means mentions of animal ears, tails, meowing, etc (do not read if you don't likd that kind of stuff). piv. unprotected sex. dean is a nerd and a freak but we knew that. one (1) mention of tentacles.

NOTES: i can't stop thinking about dean watching "cartoon smut" so here it is. the author is a virgin so there might be unrealistic details but reader is a catgirl so actually anything could happen. as always, english is not my first language. enjoy<3

Focused on using your last witch-killing bullet before the old woman in front of you finishes chanting a spell that’s apparently sucking all the air out of Sam’s lungs, you don’t notice the black cat behind you.

The case had been simple enough. Another witch causing mayhem in a small town, leaving hex bags scattered around for you three to find. You spoke with the locals, identified the suspect, and followed her to the small abandoned house she used as a lab. It looked almost like a real lab—petri dishes everywhere, concoctions bubbling. The smell of spices and herbs would’ve been overwhelming if you weren’t so focused on fighting for your life.

The black cat, apparently not too fond of you shooting its mistress, sinks its teeth into your ankle with a strength no normal house-cat should have. You shriek and try to step forward just as the cat tries to dart away. You do your best not to step on it—the animal might be the familiar of an evil witch, but you still refuse to hurt a kitty—which only causes you to trip. You and the little feline end up rolling away in a tangle of claws and limbs. You stumble into one of the lab tables, and because your luck is the worst, a sticky liquid spills all over you. Thankfully, it isn’t one of the bubbling concoctions, so there’s no third-degree burns. Instead, you’re drenched in a purple, syrupy substance that smells like… candy?

You spit out the cat fur that somehow made its way into your mouth, while the source of this whole disaster hisses at you, as if it’s all your fault. The cat walks off, offended, head raised high and tail flicking in the air. Then, suddenly, the sharp crack of a gunshot makes both you and the cat turn. Dean had regained consciousness after being knocked out by a blow to the head and had finally killed the witch. You and the feline both make noises of displeasure, but for very different reasons.

The cat runs off, meowing in sorrow for the loss of its guardian. You groan, because with the witch dead, it’s going to be a hundred times harder to figure out exactly what the hell you’re covered in.

So now you are in the bunker, all three of you reading any book you can find on magic and candy-scented potions. You leave Rowena a voicemail, but you doubt she’ll get back to you anytime soon.

The substance had absorbed into your skin a few minutes after the accident, not even giving you time to try and wash it away. It had basically disappeared, only leaving a faint glow and a sweet smell on your skin as proof of the whole ordeal. 

After hours of finding nothing useful, you drag yourself into the kitchen to make your third batch of coffee. Something feels off, but in a weird, unfamiliar way. Everything smells stronger, sharper, and more complex. You suddenly have the urge to stretch and lie down in the sunlight, even though you’ve always been known for your vitamin D deficiency. And for fuck’s sake, you still can’t get rid of the sensation of cat fur in your mouth.

“Stupid witchy cat.” You grumble as you wait for the coffee maker to finish its job.

A snicker coming from behind you makes you jump, and you quickly turn around to find your boyfriend leaning on the kitchen island. Dean gives you one of his signature grins, but you can see the undercurrent of worry in his eyes. He’s just as desperate as you to figure out exactly what’s happening.

“Are you done pouting at the coffee? I think Sam is about to pass out.”

That only makes your pout deepen, and Dean chuckles lowly before he starts to walk around the island.

But suddenly there’s a pressure on your head, and your vision gets a little blurry. You lean back against the counter, blinking slowly until the dizziness fades. Once you’re able to focus your eyes again, you turn to Dean.

Your boyfriend is frozen, staring at you with wide eyes and his jaw dropped. You start to get a little worried. What if the potion gave you some horrid, irreversible mutation, and now you have to be sent to the middle of a labyrinth like the Minotaur?

“Dean? Dean!” But he doesn’t even blink, he doesn’t move, he just stares at you. But no, he isn’t looking at you, per se, his gaze is laser-focused just a little higher, right into the top of your head.

That’s when you feel the pressure on the sides of your scalp, and then something twitches. Dean lets out a choked sound, and your hands shoot up instinctively, finding two furry triangles nestled in your hair.

“What. The. Fuck?”

You turn around and find your reflection in the glass of the microwave. Indeed, there are two black cat ears sticking out of your head, the same color of your hair and— the same color of the familiar’s fur. 

“That son of a bitch!”

Something behind you stiffens, then shoots upward in response to your anger, and this time Dean curses loudly. In the reflection, you can see it sticking from behind your shoulder, a long black—something—that twitches at the same time your new cat ears do. You hope it’s not what you think it is, but it looks a lot like…

“Are you fucking kidding me? A goddamn tail?” 

You turn your head around to look, and there it is, sticking from under the black skirt you had changed into when you got home from the hunt. Same color as your ears, and swinging slowly, lifting your skirt a bit.

“Holy shit.”

Your head snaps up, locking eyes with Dean. His expression is frozen somewhere between awe and disbelief, but there’s something else too—something heated lurking beneath the surface. You’re too busy panicking to dwell on it.

“Guys! I think I found some– oh.”

You’ve locked yourself in the bathroom for what feels like hours. Turns out, the ears and tail weren’t the only side effects of that unfinished shape-shifting potion. No, you’ve also grown fangs—which, okay, you have to admit, are kind of pretty— and you are feeling a little… kittenish? 

Like, you have to fight the urge to hiss every time Dean yells through the door for you to come out. You keep catching yourself wanting to rub your side against random furniture—scenting, Sam called it. And worst of all, you’re battling an overwhelming impulse to knock every delicate object in the bunker straight onto the floor.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can’t stay in there forever.”

You sigh, ears flattening against the top of your head. Dean’s right, if you want to fix this you have to leave the bathroom. With a defeated huff, you finally unlock the door.

He’s waiting on the other side, smirking, but he immediately tries to hide his amusement when he catches sight of your frown. You swallow down another hiss, striding past him and into the room you two shared, head high, tail flicking in clear offense.

But as soon as you brush past Dean, an overwhelming smell hits you. You admittedly liked the way Dean usually smelled, like whiskey and motor oil, something musky but sweet at the same time that you had grown to associate with home. But now, with your newly developed sharp senses, it is intoxicating.

“Baby, wait–” Dean tries to stop you from walking away, but you’re already moving, pressing yourself against his chest before you even think about it. “Uf. What…?”

You bury your nose in his neck, sniffing. Dean makes a small, strangled sound when the tip of your nose brushes behind his ear, but you ignore it. 

“You smell good.” You mumble, hands pawing at his chest and keeping your face pressed to his skin. 

“Thanks?” Dean huffs out, his hands wrapping around your waist. Your boyfriend smells like heaven, but something is missing. A deep, instinctual frustration wells up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, you start nuzzling against him, rubbing your cheek against his skin with frantic determination. He tries to pull you away, and a loud whine rips itself out of your throat. 

The sound makes you snap out of it, and you’re suddenly jumping back. You press your back against the wall while you try to catch your breath. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the heat crawling up your spine.

“Sorry.” You whisper after a long moment. “I don’t know what happened.” 

Dean blinks at you, still standing where you left him, hands half-raised like he’s not sure whether to reach for you or give you space. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.

“Uh. So it is that bad, huh?”

You don’t answer, still pressed against the wall, mortified.

Dean scrubs a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “Look, sweetheart, no need to freak out, okay? You’re just, uh—adjusting.” His lips twitch. “Though, gotta say, not used to you being this eager to cuddle me in the middle of a crisis.”

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “Dean, please.”

“I’m just sayin’" He lifts his hands defensively. "if this is a side effect, I’m not exactly complaining.”

Your glare sharpens, but Dean just grins, eyes flicking to your still-twitching ears. His smirk falters for a second, though, when he remembers that sound—the desperate little whine you let out when he pulled away. His fingers flex at his sides.

“But, uh… you’re okay, right?” His voice is softer now, eyes scanning your face.

You nod, still rattled but slowly coming back to yourself. 

“As okay as you can be after being physically-modified without your consent.”

Dean watches you for a beat longer, then huffs out a breath and shakes his head.

“Alright. Well, if you feel the urge to, y’know, scent-mark me again, maybe give a guy some warning next time.”

The words ‘scent-mark’ make you grimace, and you cover your eyes with your hands again.

“I will murder you, you know I can.”

The threat only makes him laugh, and you sigh in defeat. You will never live this down, that you are sure of.

“Did Sam find anything about how to fix this?”

You hear Dean shift closer, and you drop your hands, meeting his gaze.

“Rowena called back while you were locked in there.” He hesitates, pressing his lips together like he already knows you’re not going to like what’s next. “Since the potion wasn’t finished, the effects are temporary. You’ll just have to wait it out, baby.”

“This is a fucking nightmare.” You scoff, leaning back against the wall in resignation. 

Your cat ears flatten, tail curling low around your thigh. The kitten fangs feel too big in your mouth, and the sheer overload of sounds and scents is driving you insane.

Dean steps closer. It’s only then that you notice his pupils—blown wide, dark with something unreadable. You frown, about to question it, but before you can, he moves.

And then he’s kissing you.

The kiss is hot and sudden, stealing the breath from your lungs before you can even react. It is a little rougher than Dean usually is with you in moments like this, but you’re not complaining. His hands find your waist, pulling you in as he swallows your surprised little gasp.

His palms roam your sides, fingers pressing in like he needs to feel every inch of you. Your hands clutch his shoulders as he leans in closer, deepening the kiss until your head spins. It’s only when your lungs start to burn that you break away.

“Dean, w– ah!” As soon as you pull your lips away, he starts kissing down your neck. “What’s gotten into you?”

He hums against your skin, warm and insistent, sucking softly just below your collarbone. His teeth graze you, and a sound slips past your lips. 

A. Literal. Mewl.

Dean groans like you just wrecked him. Before you can even process your own humiliation, his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly.

You yelp, arms flying around his shoulders as he holds you against him. 

Next thing you know, your back hits the mattress.

Dean looks possessed—breathing heavy, eyes dark. You glance at the door, which was already closed. Your eyes return to Dean when his hands slide under your skirt. You’re about to ask what’s going on again, until you notice the way his eyes are locked on your kitten ears.

Your tail sways, slow and deliberate against the sheets. Realization hits you suddenly, and you grab Dean’s shoulders to stop him from leaning in again.

“You’re into this shit.” It is more an affirmation than a question.

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Dean’s weirdly specific interest in anime. The late-night “cartoon smut” Sam always rolled his eyes at. The alarming amount of Japanese erotic magazines you’d found in the Impala’s trunk that one time. His utterly feral reaction to your new feline features. 

You inhale sharply, scandalized. “Dean. Do you have a catgirl fetish?”

He scoffs, but a blush creeps into his cheeks. For the first time in your life, you’re seeing Dean Winchester flustered.

He tries to straighten up, but you stop him, still gripping his shoulders. Your grin stretches wide, ears perking up with curiosity.

You just stare, eyebrows raised, as Dean struggles to compose himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His comeback is so lame you can’t help but laugh. Just like that, the stress of the potion incident vanishes now that you had an opportunity to tease your boyfriend. 

“You little freak!” You slap his shoulder, still a little embarrassed by the whole situation. “Oh my god, I can't believe this.”

“Shut up.” He grunts.

You open your mouth to tease him again, but he shuts you up with another kiss.

Your tongues tangle as Dean tugs your skirt down in one swift motion. You let him, arms lifting when he starts to pull your shirt over your head.

Sure, you’re still freaking out a little. And yeah, Dean being into the catgirl thing is mortifying.

But the heat pooling in your stomach drowns out your embarrassment. Your chest rises and falls, breath hitching as Dean’s hands roam your bare skin—every touch heightened by your new, razor-sharp senses. 

Your panties are soaked through in seconds, and you wonder for a second if it is a cat hybrid thing. Your little fangs brush against Dean’s tongue, and he breaks the kiss with a groan. 

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, baby.” Your underwear is gone in seconds, and you moan when his fingers slide in between the lips of your swollen cunt. “You’re so wet, shit.”

Your back arches off the bed when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles while his fingers press lightly against your entrance. You spread your legs, giving Dean more room in between them. The sound that comes out of you when his middle finger finally buries itself inside of you is so kitten-like that it makes you flush. 

“Dean, please.” You mewl, not sure what you’re asking for.

The moment you open your mouth, Dean’s eyes lock onto your little fangs. His thumb brushes over your upper lip before tugging it up, eyes going wide.

"Son of a bitch." He mutters, running his finger over the sharp point of one. "Look at that. So fucking cute."

You brush your tongue against the pad of his thumb. The sensation has you drooling, your mouth forced open, and before you can process it, Dean shoves his middle and ring fingers inside.

You suck on his fingers, your head bobbing and tongue curling around them. Dean groans, pushing his digits deeper into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. He only pulls away when saliva spills down the corner of your mouth, wiping his hand on the sheets before kissing down your neck.

“So damn messy for me, kitten.” He licks and nips at your chest, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You push your hips down, trying to get him deeper inside you. “You’re so needy, baby. Like a kitty in heat.”

Dean’s words are hushed, a little rambly—you’ve never heard him like this. Mr. Confident and Nonchalant, completely unraveling. He’s so crazily into this crap, it’s almost funny.

Your laugh comes out breathy as Dean presses his thumb a little harder against you. That makes him pause, eyes flicking up. He looks as disheveled as you expected him to be, but he is now frowning. 

“What are you laughing at?” He grunts, settling between your legs.

“I should’ve known your hentai-ridden brain would be into this shit, but I never imagined you’d get this—hot and bothered over a pair of cat ears.”

You wait for Dean to yank off his shirt before leaning in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Are you into tentacles too? Or maybe—”

You are silenced by Dean slapping your pussy.

The smack echoes around the room, and it makes you choke on your words. 

“You better shut that pretty mouth before I shut it up for you.”

The “don’t threaten me with a good time” dies on your tongue when two more fingers enter you. You were loose and wet enough for it, throbbing with the need to have Dean inside of you. 

Maybe you are in heat.

You whine when the digits suddenly pull out, but then you’re being turned around into your front. Dean helps you positionate on all four, face low against the mattress and ass raised high, back arched in a perfect, flawless curve. 

You almost get knocked down when Dean suddenly presses against you. The blunt tip of his cock brushes up and down your slit, collecting the obscene amount of slick that is steadily dripping out of you. He slowly presses against your entrance until only the head is inside. Dean waits a few seconds, making you whimper desperately before he buries himself to the hilt in one swift motion.

You let out a high-pitched moan at the sudden feeling of fullness. 

“Hell, look at you.” Dean starts to thrust immediately, hips rocking mercilessly against you. “Look at your pretty tail, fuck.”

That makes you turn your head around, and you catch sight for your tail swinging in contentment at being fucked. Your blush worsens and you hide your face against the covers. 

“You feel so good, kitty. Such a tight, warm cunt, just for me.” 

Dean’s hips shift and suddenly he is slamming against that spot that makes you grip the blankets for dear life. You mewl helplessly, ears twitching and pussy tightening around Dean.

“Yeah, Dean. Ngh- right there.”

Dean keeps thrusting into you at a brutal pace, and the only sounds your enhanced hearing can pick up are your loud whines and Dean’s rough moans. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope Sam is reading away in the library, far enough not to hear.

Amidst all the burning sensation, you almost miss the way Dean’s hand curls around the base of your tail. It makes your shoulders tense up, and then he tugs at it.

The sensation that runs up your spine is like nothing you had ever felt before. Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back. You let out a yowl of pleasure, totally overwhelmed by it.

The way you tighten around Dean makes him still for a second, surprised by your intense reaction. You whimper and rock your hips back.

“Again. Dean– again.”

There’s one more second of stillness before Dean resumes the roll of his hips with new-found vigor. It is almost violent in the best way, and it makes your nails drag down the blankets, your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

“You like that, baby?” Dean whispers, and he sounds wrecked. His voice is strangled and the hand that is not on your tail is gripping your hips so hard you just know it will leave marks.

“You like having your tail pulled? What a needy little thing.”

You nod as best as you can while being rocked back and forth insatiably, and you are rewarded by a harsh tug to your tail. You moan and mewl repeatedly, asking for more.

Dean keeps pulling at your tail, his other hand leaving your hip and sliding around your body until he finds your swollen clit. He starts rubbing it and tugging your tail at the same time, making you throw your head back and scream.

“I’m close.” You cry out. “Fuck, Dean. Gonna come.”

“Cum for me, kitten.” The head of his cock keeps hitting that sensitive spot, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. “You’ve been so good for me, get this cute little cunt all messy for me.”

You let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a meow as you cum, wetness dripping out of you and running down your thighs. 

Your boyfriend keeps fucking you through your orgasm, thrusts now sloppy and desperate.

“That’s it. So goddamn tight, fuck. Fuck.”

He grunts loudly as he comes inside of you. Thick ropes of cum cover your inner walls, filling you with warmth. You hum in satisfaction at the feeling. Dean stays deep inside you even after his climax ends, panting and stroking your tail softly. 

You whine, ears going flat against your head when he slowly pulls out. It makes him chuckle, and you pout. It quickly disappears when Dean lays down next to you, pulling you against his chest before draping a blanket over your naked bodies. 

“You like getting your tail pulled.” He breathes out, like he is still marveling at the discovery. 

Still recovering from the most intense orgasm you have ever had, you hide your face against Dean’s neck and groan. 

“Shut up.” You grumble. But after a second, you end up whispering. “It felt good.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

That earns him a slap on the chest. He just laughs, pulling you closer. Too fucked out to care, you nuzzle your cheek against his skin—scenting him. He already smells like you after everything that just happened, and the thought fills you with a deep, lazy satisfaction.

Then, suddenly, a low, rumbling sound vibrates deep in your chest. It rolls through your whole body, making you melt further into Dean’s arms. His hand, still tracing up and down your back, abruptly stops.

He calls your name, voice tinged with shock.

“Are you… purring?”

That makes you pause.

You are fucking purring, from getting railed.

You’re about to die from embarrassment when Dean curses loudly, his forehead dropping against the top of your head. Your kitten ears twitch and brush against his cheeks, making him groan again. 

“God fucking damn it. There’s no way—this has to be some messed-up fever dream.”

If you’re being honest, your boyfriend being so affected by it makes all the shame wash away. You giggle, still purring. 

“You fucked me so well you made me purr.” You whisper in his ear, and he looks like he’ll combust. 

“You can’t say shit like that.” He grunts, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Just saying the truth, love.”

You stay like that, wrapped up in each other, chests pressed together. The steady rumble of your purring fills the space, low and soothing. At some point, your tail curls around Dean’s arm, and he just chuckles, tracing lazy shapes along your back with his fingertips.

You scent him one last time for good measure, this time dragging your lips along his neck, leaving little bruises and imprints of your sharp teeth all over.

He lets you, exhaling softly, his other hand finding your kitten ears. The gentle scratch behind them pulls a sweet, contented sigh from your throat.

“Y'know,” Dean murmurs after a long stretch of silence, mischief lacing his voice. “There’s one more thing we should probably check before the potion wears off.”

You hum, too relaxed to question it.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

"Do you have a rough tongue?"

You turn to him in disbelief, catching the way his eyes darken.

"We already kissed, dumbass. Your fingers were literally in my mouth. You know I don’t."

You shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, that cocky grin only widens as he leans in further, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Maybe… but we should make sure. Plus, y’know, cats love milk—”

"You absolute perv!" You push him again, harder this time, and he finally falls back against the mattress with a chuckle.

You shake your head, laughing at his audacity. “Shut up before I tell everyone big bad hunter Dean Winchester is a fucking nerd with a catgirl kink.”

By morning, all kitten features are gone. You celebrate while Dean mourns the loss, But you already know—eventually, you’ll be asking Rowena for a similar potion. 

You simply like making your boyfriend feel good, even if it includes some weird hentai shit.

It had nothing to do with how good the tail-pulling felt, of course.

NOTES: yes, i had to watch catgirl hentai while researching for this (no other reason). I can't believe this is so long but I am unable to shut the fuck up. anyway, hope you liked it!

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery <3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[colorlessjay]

Ok I love immortal Cas reincarnation Dean but also like what if it’s a reincarnation library? Like souls come in and Cas checks them in and returns them to the new shelf/life they belong to?

Cas is the librarian (it was some other angel but Cas just had too much heart so they stuck him where he could cause the least amount of trouble and turns out he’s really fucking good at it). His job is to guide souls to their next incarnation. One might think that it would get boring or he would hate staying in what amounts to heaven’s basement (like the other angel) but he doesn’t. The souls will sometimes tell him the stories of their last lives as he escorts them to the proper new section and he loves it (especially the bees who have wonderful description of flowers).

Then comes Dean. Cas knows right away that he’s NOT supposed to be here. Cas has gained the ability to see life lines, it’s how he knows where to place souls (past lifelines are gold future life lines are silver, it determines if you go in to become a tortoise, a mouse, a human, a butterfly, etc.) but Dean comes in and his lifeline is severed and green like his soul. Cas doesn’t know what to do. He thinks maybe it’s unfinished business so he has him reincarnate as a human but somehow every couple of years Dean comes back (he doesn’t remember much except that he trusts the blue eyed angel that always saves and cares for him) Cas is beside himself. No one from heaven ever comes to rectify the situation and the more times Dean shows up the more Cas talks to him and gets to know him, the more he falls in love. He shows Dean how he transfers the souls and how they become remade and whole in their new forms. He gets so desperate to see Dean’s soul the same way, he offers Dean any incarnation he wants. Dean innocently asks what incarnation would allow him to stay with Cas. Cas has to tell Dean he can’t stay. That’s not how it works. Dean is sad but asks to be reincarnated as a dog so he can watch over his brother. Cas let’s him even though the lifeline isn’t right, even though it’s breaking his own rules. It’s years until Dean returns and Cas doesn’t know if he’s happy or sad.

Anyway much anguish,angst, and reincarnations later Cas simply can’t bear to see Dean’s soul broken anymore (he’s tried everything, even breaking the rules again and waiting with Dean until his brother Sam dies and reincarnating them as brothers together) but nothing. Finally (after learning through many other souls like Bobby, Jody, Donna, Benny, etc.) that Dean’s soul has been cursed, marked by a god for eternal pain. It’s unbearable to see, torture to know that he will never be able to bring Dean the peace the beautiful soul deserves. Then a soul gives him the answer (Rowena) and he makes the ultimate sacrifice to break Dean’s curse. He gives him his wings. Dean is now free from the cycle of incarnation which means he will never return to Cas or the library and Cas has given up his wings so his sanctuary is now his lovely prison.

Only Dean starts dreaming. Starts remembering a place and blue eyes. Remembers a man. And if it’s the last thing he does, if he has to storm heaven itself: he’s going to find him one day.

He starts by sending messages with the dying (maybe he become a doctor or something because the closer he is to the boundary between life and death the closer he feels to the mystery man) he whispers in ears, sends notes in hands and sometimes he swears he’ll see a few more bees around him than normal, maybe some blue butterflies that aren’t native to the area and he doesn’t give up hope that there is a way to cross the veil back to Cas (and maybe Cas gets in trouble because the angels DEFINITELY take notice of a soul breaking free of the cycle that fuels heaven and they lobotomize him Ike they do in cannon, he doesn’t remember being in love with Dean but the old souls that have passed through and seen them together are the ones coming to Dean to give him hope)

So now Dean is remembering while Cas has forgotten and it’s just one complex and beautiful tragedy

Only. The god that Cas saved Dean from wants revenge. So he/she/they/it demand Cas is punished to forget and live a human life. Dean meets Cas and both know they are looking for someone they lost but neither know it’s each other (maybe they try not to fall in love with each other, still clinging to what they think they’ve lost and when they finally do give in they remember or something) except it’s not all happily ever after because remember that god that cursed Dean (Amara maybe)? Yeah it’s got a mortal vessel too and it’s determined to get Dean for itself

———

Oof sorry that was so long and if it doesn’t make sense, the idea got away from me as I was typing. Please ignore me if you hate it I just needed to get it out of my system somewhere 😅 I really love the other takes on this one too (the Epic/mythology parallels are awesome, 10/10)

Write a book, goddamn

Definitely not the direction my brain was going in but I fucking love it

Vibes. 10/10. Makes your own post about this and expand on it plsss

[deepdisireslonging]

Bound and Blinded Together

The Winchesters are out on a case, leaving Cas and the Reader to pack up the Bunker’s holiday decorations. Castiel gets a little overwhelmed by the task, but the Reader takes her time in helping him out.

Pairing: Castiel x Winchester!Reader

Warnings/Promises: Dean being uncharacteristically a grinch, holiday angst, plot without point, bad decorations packing, fluff, Smut, bondage with unsafe materials

Word Count: 3300

Note: This turned out surprisingly angsty. Apparently, I needed to get some things off my chest. I also played around with Cas’s Grace abilities in this one. Let me know what you thought with comments and reblogs <3 Happy reading! And Happy New Year!

Your eyes widened, trying to process what Dean just ordered. “What! You can’t be serious?”

He groaned and looked at the floor. “It all needs to come down.” Though it pained him to say it, the Christmas decorations covering the bunker floor to ceiling couldn’t stay up. “Sam and I probably won’t be back till January. And Rowena will be with us by then. We can’t have the Queen of Hell seeing all this.”

With a pout, you crossed your arms. “Why not? She might find it cute.”

Sam glanced at Dean before nodding in agreement. “It’ll kinda undermine what we need to ask her to do. You and Dean did a great job putting everything up, but –” He sighed. “If the place looks childish she might not cooperate.”

It was a load of crap. You knew Rowena had seen the boys at their most childish, and yet she still did everything Sam asked. He didn’t reply when you pointed out as much. But Dean’s jaw was set. So you might as well have been arguing with a brick wall. Not that it stopped you.

“We could probably leave this up year-round! It’s not like anyone can see this from the outside. We’re not the tacky neighbors using our Christmas lights to decorate for Fourth of July.” With a huff, you shot Cas a look, begging him to help you.

He turned to the brothers. “She is correct. The warding on the bunker prevents any beings from knowing what the inside looks like unless we let them in. And Rowena has been here before.”

You resisted the very Dean-move of tightly closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. You tried one more thing. “Come on, Dee. We worked so hard on it.”

For a split second you thought it worked. Dean looked around, soaking in the brightly colored lights. He grinned at the tinsel that had gotten everywhere while the two of you  decorated. All while playing Muppet Christmas music and every rock cover of classic holiday songs that you could find. It took the whole weekend to put up the three trees for the library, war room, and game room. That weekend was your new favorite memory. Especially when Sam and Cas came back from their case and helped trim the trees with the ornaments you had curated for them. Everyone had at least three apiece, each one referencing a funny moment on a case or other big moment. Dean had been particularly tickled with the angel tree topper you found for the library tree that kind of looked like Castiel. He glanced at that tree one more time before running a hand down his face.

“We did do good work. But we can do it again next year.” He turned and walked out of the library.

The pain in his shoulders finally revealed why he didn’t want to help the take-down: he didn’t want to see the bunker sad and drab until he knew he was coming back for sure. If things went sideways… the last memory you’d have of him was the putting it all up. The weight of realization hit you hard. You looked up at Sam with a lump in your throat.

“Is it really going to be that bad? I thought you and Rowena were still… friends.”

He swallowed. “We’re hoping so. But… we’re not sure all this is her doing. If it’s someone else, they may try to stop us from stopping them. And they might try and take out Rowena in the process.” He opened his arms for you to run into. “We’re trying to be careful. There’s too much we don’t know.” Shuddering a breath, he made eye contact with Cas over your head.

“But if it is Rowena,” Castiel gruffed, “then your brothers will explain to her what’s happening up here and convince her to stop.” He gave you a cheery smile as you turned your head out of Sam’s chest. “They will be fine.”

Sam kept smoothing his hand up and down your back. But you didn’t miss the hesitation and slight clench of Sam’s palm.

Castiel continued, “and I’m staying here with you. I’ll help pack everything away.”

As your body tensed, Sam kissed the top of your head. “You don’t have to do anything immediately. Wait till after New Year’s if you like. And we’ll try to call you with a heads up when we’re on our way.” He wrapped his long arms around you as you muttered “some Christmas present” into his chest. He chuckled. “If anything’s still up when we get back, we’ll tell Rowena its for Epiphany.”

----

For the first few days after they left, you refused to move a single bauble. Castiel put up with a lot on those days. You baked more cookies than the two of you could ever eat. And you watched every Christmas movie you could think of. And you found a few more on reels in the archives that you’d never seen before.

He didn’t push. But Castiel quietly brought out the storage boxes and readied the packing paper.

New Years Eve rolled around and over into the New Year. You talked with Sam and Dean over the phone. They refused to update you on the case. Part of you knew Dean was inwardly thrilled at the possibility that someone was listening in on their calls like in a spy movie. But it also meant they had to keep it short. The New Year dawned. And the bunker was quiet as a tomb.

“We don’t have to do it all tonight,” Cas started. “We could just do the ornaments.”

He was right. You knew it, even if you didn’t want to hear it. So, with a huff, you left the couch and slid over the ornaments box.

Cas joined you. He noticed your pause as you wondered where to start. He snapped his fingers.

“No!” Chest tight, you looked between the tree and the box. The green was only wrapped in lights while the ornaments were nestled safely in the box. “Put them back.”

“But I thought,” Cas’s head tilted. “If taking the decorations down is too painful, I can do it all like this.”

You shook your head. “No. You – you can’t do it like that. It’s… too sudden.” You knew he could read your mind. Opening the mental doors to him, you let him see the memories. Memories like coming back from breakfast on a case and finding your dad had dumped the cheap gas-station decorations in the trash so he could pile you all into the Impala the second you got there. And the time Dean decorated for Christmas with just the three of you the first winter in the bunker. Sam dragged you out on a case and Dean had taken everything down himself without telling you his intentions. You had come back from a rough vampire’s nest to the colorless bunker and broke down. The bunker was a home you hadn’t had since childhood. And it still felt like every small joy was being stolen from you. It felt like the earth was spinning faster every year and your small moments with family were becoming fewer and farther in between. And now your brothers were out there and might not come back and-

Castiel walked over and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. His shirt and tie were quickly soaked with your tears.

So what if the bunker looked childish when Rowena got here? You wanted to be childish. Hadn’t you grown up enough?

“Yes. You’ve grown up enough.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. The way he did when Dean was in the room but he still wanted to comfort you without raising your brothers’ protective ire. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” With the soft flutter of his wings, the ornaments were back on their branches, and he was in your arms again. Cas hummed as you kissed the underside of his jaw. “We’ll go as slow as you need.”

The ornaments came off the tree the slow way. The delicate ones were wrapped in paper. The cheap plastic ones were squeezed together in the plastic cubbies of the box. And the angel topper went back into his box. Taking the strands of tinsel off was a struggle. Somewhere out there, you knew there was a good way to store the silver strands again for next year. But they somehow ended up scrunched down into a box you were sure needed to hold a decoration you’d forgotten about.

Castiel handled the lights. Or he tried to anyways.

One minute you were folding up the tree skirt. The next you were laughing till your sides hurt.

The poor angle had completely tangled himself. You weren’t sure how. If this had been another cartoon your group had gotten caught in, you almost would have thought the lights were like a tightly-wound coil. And they had somehow sprung. Castiel stood there like Tom from Tom and Jerry with the lights wrapped around his limbs like a spring.

“How did you – never mind. Let me help.”

He grumbled under his breath as you tried to untangle him. Once or twice he offered to snap the lights into conformity, but you were having too much fun. Soon, he was smiling too.

“Here, lift your leg. I’ve almost got it.”

But your tugging on the strand made him wobble. Cas made a surprise sound. Then he fell like a tree. You tried to catch him, but with the lights in the way, his arms were stuck to his sides. You winced as he hit the ground.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” You clasped your hands over your mouth to cover your smile. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. His head tilted as you began to shake. “Are you alright?”

A giggle bubbled over your hands. “Mhmm. Just… you fell like a log. Like in the movies.” The giggles turned into full-body laughter. “Alright, let’s try this again.”

Reaching down, you tried to bring Castiel to his feet by tugging on the lights. But without his hands, he couldn’t help. And he wasn’t about to angel himself out of the situation. Not when you were smiling like that. Your wrist got caught in a circle you’d managed to tug loose earlier.

Cas’s eyes went wide. “Y/N.” Then he went down again. This time, you went down with him. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” Wriggling, you realized a few strands you’d freed the ends of decided to join the tangle. They tied you to Castiel across the back of your legs and diagonally across your back. You weren’t sure how they managed that, but then you squinted at your angel. He was terrible at hiding his guilt from you. “You know, I think you’ve been holding back on your understanding human humor.”

He looked sideways at the floor. “Not necessarily. But we’ve been watching those Hello Mark movies for days. And this problem showed up a few times. It made you laugh.” He dipped his chin before meeting your gaze. “I like hearing you laugh.”

With a grin, you leaned up to kiss the end of his nose. “Hallmark. The movies were from Hallmark.” You sighed. “I like laughing with you. I would say thank you for the reason to, but… how are we going to fix this? You gonna angel mojo us outta here or-“ With a start, you realized how pink the tops of his cheeks were. “Castiel. Are you trying to seduce me? With Hallmark moves, no less.”

“Not necessarily. Just wanted to cheer you up.” He settled back onto the floor. “Unless it’s working.”

You answered by nuzzling your nose under his jaw. It brought you no small joy that his whole body shivered when you finally kissed over his pulse point. “Perhaps it is. But it’s a little uncomfortable laying here on the floor, don’t you think? And if this is going to work, we’re never going to get our clothes out of the way with the lights tangled like this –”

A ruffle of wings later, you were no longer laying on the floor, but on the sheets of your bed. The air was cool on your bare skin. But the lights still twined around your bodies. They had moved too.

“Cas?”

His eyes were wide. Lust-blown. It wasn’t odd for you to have to remind him to breathe when out on a case so he looked human. But his chest heaved up and down now. It strained against the strand of lights crisscrossed against his chest. The strand hugged tight at his hips before spiraling around his thighs. There was a bit of give in the line before it began its twine around your body.

Yours were wrapped tight around your hips too. The lights crossed your torso and pressed in a tight figure eight around your breasts, pushing them forward. Another loop was around your throat. It wasn’t too tight. But if Castiel were to hook a few fingers under the line, like you hoped he would, it wouldn’t be hard for him to restrict your breathing. The end-caps of the lights pressed against your skin. Intersections of the lines collected at your egregious zones. You rolled your hips. Already you were trembling. “Like what you see?”

Cas nodded gently, mouth agape.

Suddenly he leaned forward and caught you in a searing kiss. You would have wrapped your arms around him. But the light strand caught your wrists and pulled them back over your head. You had nowhere to go as Cas kissed his way across your collarbone and down between your breasts. He mouthed at the hollow of your throat to make you whine. Trapped together, he could feel every roll of your hips, and you jolted every time his cockhead caught your clit. As he caught your mouth, drinking in your sighs, you closed your eyes. Your skin warmed under his attention.

When you opened your eyes, you realized that the heat wasn’t just from the two of you. The more frantic Cas was to taste every inch of your skin, the brighter the lights flared.

“Are – are you doing that?”

“No.” He pressed his lips against your forehead as his hands kneaded your breasts. “My Grace might be affecting them.”

“Are we going to catch fire?”

“No. We might burn out a few of the bulbs.”

You arched as his kisses made their way down your throat and then up to the peaks of your breasts. “If this goes the way I think it will, I hope we pop them all.”

Cas growled against your skin. His hand spread wide over your lower tummy. A warmth spread within you as he made sure you were ready for his length. Before you could keen for his fingers, he gently nudged the tip of his cock at your entrance. The lights flickered. Cas’s gaze tunneled to where you were conjoined. Unable to wait another second, he pressed deep within you.

Your moan, high and needy, made Castiel ravenous. He muttered under his breath in Enochian. He must have been using some strong phrases because a few items rattled around the room. Or were you the one shaking? With the barest touch to your clit, Cas sent you soaring into release. You squeezed your thighs around him with a cry. When you managed to open your eyes a few breaths later, he was still moving, but he was entranced with the view of you.

He quickly worked you up again. Every breath that caught in your throat and every clamp of your walls added to his desperation. You could never be sure if he wasn’t using his Grace to help you along. But when an orgasm was ready, you didn’t care how he did it. You wanted him. Craved him. He freed your wrists so he could hug you close as he thundered into your sex. You clawed at his back as you came, muffling your sounds in his flushed skin.

And he never stopped thrusting. The last release didn’t fade away. Instead, it kindled and burned your nerves, quickly preparing you for another.

Cas’s hips were frantic. Under his drooping eyelids, you could see the wisps of blue light peaking out. He squeezed his eyes shut. But the bulbs wrapped around your limbs brightened. Your eyes fluttered closed under the onslaught of pleasure and light. With a shout, Cas spilled into you, sending you spiraling into a final release. If your eyes hadn’t been shut, you would have been blinded. He kept moving for a few more thrusts. Each one pushed his cum back into your sex. You were whimpering before he stopped.

“I think we burned the lights.”

You giggled. “Good.” A chill breeze washed over you. It the time it took to inhale, you were cleaned up and comfy in your pj’s. You snagged Castiel’s wrist before he could move away. “Oh, no you don’t.” You curled to one side, wiggling your body back into his torso. “You’re always too quick. Stay with me.”

He settled in with a hum.

Sleep had almost overcome you when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry about the lights.”

You grinned. “We can get new ones. Don’t worry about it.” Sleep called, but now your brain was thinking. “Does your Grace always react like that?”

Behind you, Cas’s nose pressed between your shoulder blades. “Yes. I have to focus to repress it. But the lights… picked up on my Grace somehow.” He kissed at your spine. “That was a… gentler display of what my Grace does when I orgasm in you. With you. Because of you.”

His words made your body warm all over again. But then he pulled you tighter against his body. So tight, you didn’t have room to shift or turn like you usually did when trying to fight off sleep.

Cas watched your eyes close. He listened to your breathing even out. And he held you close until you woke up the next morning, ready to welcome in a new year.

---

A few days later, the bunker door screeched open. Dean walked through first. Then Sam. And then their guest.

“Rowena!”

She smiled brightly as she descended the stairs. “Hello, Dearie.” With a giggle that you happily matched, she accepted your embrace. “The boys told me you didn’t want to give up your decorations for me.”

“They said it would make the place look childish.”

Rowena scoffed. “I already know they’re childish. It’s nothing new. Just like them, your meanie brothers, trying to keep up appearances they didn’t have to begin with.”  She glanced at Castiel. “What else have you two been up to?”

The angel froze.

“Oh, nothing. Lounging, researching,” you shrugged. “The usual.”

“Mhmm.” Her gaze traveled head to toe and back again over Cas. “Still, the place could be at least a little festive.” With a twirl of her finger she made a bundle of mistletoe hang from the door mantle between the war room and library. “There. Much better.” She laced her arm with yours and began to walk that way. “Can’t leave your angel in the cold just because your brothers are home.”

Sam grimaced. “Rowena –”

“What?” She tried to summon him over as she passed under the greenery. “Doesn’t just have to be for them.”

Now Dean growled.

“Oh, alright.” She inhaled deeply before taking your arm again. “I think it’s time you and I had a little chat, Dearie, to get you caught up on a lot of things. Shall we?”

***

Master List

***

Other Castiel Fics:

Satisfied (S)

Spell-Bound (S)

Other SPN Fics:

Need a Lift? ( SPN Fluff Appreciation Day 2017) - Sam x Reader

Short and Short Tempered (F, Implied S, Drabble) - Sam x Reader

Last of the Season (Food Mention, Fluff, S) - Dean x Reader

What’s Your Favorite Position? (S) - Dean x Reader

[twowaywardorphansjournal]

Translated, Part 2

Summary: Sam gets hit by a witches hex that causes a big miscommunication

Content: Sam x reader, swearing, arguing, implied smut, sarcastic humor, witchcraft.

Notes: Thank you to all who liked Part 1! I'm so glad it was received well! I hope you enjoy!

Need to catch up? Find Part 1 here

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

You awoke the next day to the sound of yelling. You wondered what could be going on, and then everything from yesterday came flooding back. Shoving back the covers, you raced to the kitchen, where you found Sam and Dean arguing.

“Ça n'arrivera pas, espèce d'abruti!” Sam shouted. Dean looked like he was about ready to spew lava. He threw a fake punch in Sam’s direction. You knew the situation was the only thing holding him back from physically tackling him right now, and that patience was wearing thin.

“Hey!” You hollered before Sam retaliated. They both snapped their heads to look at you. “What’s happening?”

“Just…nothing,” Dean blew out a frustrated sigh and turned back to the coffee pot. Sam ran a hand through his hair before looking at you, offering a small smile. You tossed your hands out with a questioning glance.

“Dean essayait juste de…” Sam trailed off, realizing you still couldn’t understand him. He held up a finger and pulled out his phone. Dean silently stalked out of the room with his coffee cup.

Dean veut t'emmener chercher la sorcière pendant que je suis assis ici à faire des recherches. Je lui ai dit que tu resterais à mes côtés.

Dean wants to take you to look for the witch while I sit here and research. I told him you aren't leaving my sight.

You felt your face warm as you read the message. You knew this was an ongoing issue with the brothers, Dean trying to utilize you to keep Sam safe and Sam refusing to let you go without him. While you loved hearing Sam announce his intention to keep you safe, you also hated being the cause of the conflict.

I’m not going anywhere until we know how to fix you. I’ll talk to him.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Once everyone was on the same page that no one was leaving until it was certain that finding the witch was the answer, part two of the research day began. Sam seemed to be finding comfort in the fact that he could say things to himself without Dean understanding. He was starting to have almost a full-on conversation with himself when you bumped his knee. He mouthed something in French that you took to be an apology.

It was after lunchtime when you finally had a breakthrough. You had backed yourself out of the corner that this had to do with the language and went back to spells and hexes that just weren’t commonly used.

“It’s a language spell.” You declared, sitting up a little bit taller in your chair. “It looks like it reverts your brain to any language you know other than English. So,” you glanced at Sam next to you, “you took French in school?”

“Un semestre!” Sam held up his index finger as he cocked his head, giving you one of his ‘I had no choice’ looks.

“We’re lucky it wasn’t fucking Latin.” Dean grumbled, slamming his book shut. He eagerly leaned over the table, trying to read the text. “It has a solution, right?”  

“That’s where this gets a bit complicated.” You unconsciously started twisting a strand of hair around your finger. “It’s a hex, so there’s a spell portion, but it can only be delivered within that energy ball. I don’t know if Rowena knows how to do that, or if we go find the witch and make her do the counter-curse.”

Dean slumped backwards. Sam ran a hand over his face, starting to read the book before he seemed to remember that it was still in English. After a couple seconds, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of it, then set to work figuring out how to decipher it with modern technology.

“I’ll go call Rowena.” Dean stood, pausing to stretch his stiffened body before starting down the hallway to his room.

With a heavy sigh, you laid your head on Sam’s shoulder, watching his screen scroll through gibberish until he set it down. He pulled the chair closer with his arm, draping it over the back once he was finished, and settled his head on top of yours. He lazily danced his finger over your shoulder. You felt your eyes grow heavy, the stress of the day catching up with you.

“Voulez vous coucher avec moi?” Sam whispered.

“Samuel!” You gasped, trying not to laugh out loud, and slapped his chest. He chuckled, his shoulder shaking. Despite your verbal complaint, you didn’t miss how Sam’s hand slipped around your waist, nestling you right against him. In one fluid motion, Sam brushed your hair back and tipped his head down, brushing his lips over your neck. You shivered automatically. He bit down gently, earning a small moan from you, and then soothed the spot with his tongue.

“Ok, kids,” Dean announced as he reentered the room. Sam, ever the graceful one, looked up calmly like he hadn’t been working you over. You had a little more trouble yanking your thoughts away from crawling into Sam’s lap. “Good news and bad news. Good news, Rowena says the energy ball thing shouldn’t be an issue. Bad news, she was taking a sabbatical in New Mexico and can’t get here until tomorrow.”

“Sérieusement?”

“Seriously?” You asked at the same time as Sam.

“Yeah, we’re stuck with monsieur jerk for another 24 hours.” Dean threw a quick smile at Sam, ignoring the eye roll he responded with. “I’m gonna go wrestle up some ingredients for burgers tonight. If we’re stuck waiting around, then I want a quality meal.”

As Dean started milling around collecting his things, Sam ran his hand over the edge of your bra strap, snapping it against your skin. You rolled your eyes playfully. Sam didn’t miss how you shifted in your seat.  

“It might be worth it to keep looking if there’s something else to fix this.” Dean continued, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and looking at the two of you again. “I’ll call if there’s any updates. And, as per usual, please wrap it before you tap it, and refrain from having sex on the leather couch.”

You felt your face flame with embarrassment as Dean smirked and turned on his heel to start up the stairs. Burying your face in Sam’s shoulder, you tried to remind yourself that this was what brothers did. Dean had caught you in compromising positions a handful of times and usually just seemed proud that his little bro was getting some action. But it still irked you how well Dean could read the room when you thought you were being subtle.

Sam leaned in and kissed the top of your head, hovering until you had calmed down enough to sit up and look at him. He smiled, and you saw him start to work his jaw to comfort you before he remembered the language barrier. You shook your head when he reached for his phone.

“I’m fine. He’s just being your brother. And hey,” you put your hand on his chest and smiled, “at least sex doesn’t require communication, right?”

“Oui,” Sam answered with a grin.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

It turned out you were slightly wrong. You had forgotten some of the usual back and forth between you and Sam when you were together. But hearing it in a French voice was a hell of a lot sexier than you had expected. You tried your hardest to present a normal gait when you all met for dinner, but there was still a hitch in your step that Dean didn’t miss, and he busted out laughing before you could come up with a story.

The rest of the night was relatively normal. You had to watch a movie with French subtitles, but you took it as an opportunity to learn a language you were growing fond of. Maybe when this was all over you would pick up some phrases so that you and Sam could talk without Dean understanding you.

Rowena arrived the next afternoon, dressed to the nines as usual. Dean, who had slowly been growing more agitated all morning, began pacing while she set to work. She explained what she was doing differently because of how her powers worked versus what she suspected the other witch had done.

“Wait, I thought you were sure this was gonna work?” Dean barked.

“Quit you’re achin’, I know what I’m doing.” Rowena drawled in her Scottish accent. “I’m just saying that it will look different from what you saw.”

Finally, she was ready. You squeezed Sam’s hand tightly before moving to stand next to Dean. Rowena began to chant, her hands swirling rhythmically, and a glowing ball of light formed within her silver bowl. Slowly she raised it, spoke evenly, and then punched her arm out to send it straight into Sam’s chest. Sam flinched, his hand covering where the energy ball had entered him, and a spasm of pain crossed his face as an orange glow passed over him. As it faded, he looked up at everyone.

“Did it work?” Dean asked anxiously.

“Je ne sais pas…” Sam muttered slowly.

Your heart sank.

Dean swore.

“…how you could be so gullible!” Sam finished, grinning. “I’m just fucking with you guys!”

“Sam!” You and Dean hollered at the same time.

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

Tag Requests: @wendichester @mostlymarvelgirl

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 182 (A Pleasant Surprise)

Following the meeting with the Bankses, Felix and Emit soon received confirmation that the judge had recused herself from Ash's custody trial, handing it off to her colleague, Judge Morrison, in Brindleton Bay. Just as she'd promised. While Felix took care of informing Heather and Conrad of the good news, Emit headed to Britechester.

He hadn't seen or spoken to Angela since the wedding, but while he was in her time he couldn't avoid her. He didn't want to. But he was still unprepared to see her growing belly - confirmation that life, as he knew it, would never be the same. He'd been avoiding this feeling.

"How did it go with the time thief?"

"It went well," he said. "I think it's over."

Angela smiled. "That's great," she said, but she wasn't really interested in the time thief. "Did Felix tell you it's twins?"

He nodded. He didn't know what to say.

"The doctor says everything's good. We're all healthy."

"That's good."

She waited for him to say more. "Why are you here?" she asked.

"Angela, I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do about it. I haven't slept in months. The night you told me you were pregnant, I went for a walk through the glen and sat outside an old pub. This woman walked out like she came straight from the 1920s and sat down next to me. Talked my ear off for an hour about her husband - 'the Admiral', she called him - and their daughter. Finally, I told her you were expecting and she knew I wasn't happy about it. 'Maybe you shouldn't have been such a gigolo,' she said."

"What are you talking about? What woman?"

"I don't know who she was, but she made me think about things I've done, and rules I've broken...Ange, you're not the first woman I've slept with...on the job. There was only one other woman, six hundred years ago, but I looked into her genealogy because I got scared. I don't even know how this works, but I'm my own 22nd great-grandfather!"

"You're what?"

"I don't even want to know, and it scares me. But being a time traveler is all I know. As soon as I turned thirteen I left home to start my training. I don't think I can quit."

Angela looked at him with earnest green eyes. "Is there something you want me to say? I told you I would never force you to stay."

"I just...I wanted to see you. And I want to come back. I don't know when..."

Angela sighed, placing a hand on her growing stomach. "I'm not going anywhere, Emit, but if you have to ask me if you should stay, I think you already know what you want to do."

While Emit left Angela with an awkward goodbye, loner Lilith was getting acclimated to life at the chateau, feeding a burgeoning interest in tarot with a deck she'd found. Felix' boss was yet to open an office in Ravenwood, so he was commuting to work every few weeks and scoping out potential new clients when he was home.

But the loved up newlyweds still managed to spend as much time as they could together, and while Felix was out of town for Ash Landgraab's new custody hearing in Brindleton Bay, Lilith took a pregnancy test. Positive! She grinned with excitement.

From the minute Lilith met Felix, she knew she'd be happy to have a child with him, and she couldn't wait to tell him the great news. The chateau's pet crow, Rowena, came with the house, and Lilith entertained herself watching the mysterious black corvid while she waited patiently for her husband to return.

It was dark when he came home, exhausted and complaining about the flight from Brindleton Bay, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face as he tucked into dinner. "Did Judge Morrison give custody back to Heather and Conrad?"

"Of course he did. Nancy didn't even show up - just Malcolm and his wife. Judge Morrison didn't believe Malcolm when he said they had no knowledge of what Landgraab Engineering had been working on, and Ash will be home by the weekend."

"That's the second best news I've had all day," she said, standing next to him at the picnic table outside. He raised an expectant brow. "Felix, I'm pregnant."

(She told him this herself. He came home and I tried to queue up her telling him, but the option wasn't there because she did it just as I was looking for the option in her menu!)

The former ghost's eyes bulged as he registered the news, a wide grin pulling from one cheek to the other. "You are? We weren't trying yet. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I've been nauseous for days and my period was late, so I took a test this afternoon."

"Lilith, this is the greatest news I've ever had in any of my lives." He struggled to find the words to express the warmth exploding from his skin, standing from the bench to caress her small belly. "We're going to have a baby? Our baby!"

The newlyweds shared a romantic embrace as they celebrated their impending parenthood, and Felix ran a hand through his beloved's red hair. "What else did you get up to while I was away?"

"I've almost got my podcast schedule set for the new season, and I called a local adoption agency about a cat. They're bringing a black kitten over tomorrow to see if he suits us. He's called Patches."

"What will Rowena think about a cat?"

"My friend Cassandra says her mother has a crow and two cats, and the cats never bother Obsidian."

Felix smiled, reaching for her hand to kiss the soft tips of her fingers. "We'll hope Rowena and Obsidian have the same disposition, then."

Their friends would finally be reunited with their son in Brindleton Bay, and Patches joined the growing Psyded clan as the newlyweds began prepping for the arrival of their first child. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Rowena won second place in the official poll to name Grimbella's crow, Obsidian, so she was automatically bestowed the name when I first loaded up the lot in-game.

NOTE 2: Baby boom incoming. It's not just the Pleasant twins...Also Emit definitely saw Lady Ravendancer('s ghost?), but she knows enough magic to make herself look completely alive to anyone she wants, probably. Emit didn't jump back far enough in time to run into her in 1920, and the Landgraab curse has nothing to do with the time thief. (That's why he didn't recognize her, in case you did!)

NOTE 3: We're skipping the second custody hearing. It's summarized, we won! But we knew they would win because the Landgraabs were being shady with biometric time travel and Felix could prove it. Ash is coming home!!

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Draco Malfoy x Greengrassreader

Tags: fluff, Draco in the hospital, time lapse, mention of childbirth

First Kiss:

Laughter echoed across Malfoy's quidditch pitch. All the children, Greengrass, Nott, Goyle, and Crabbe flew around as the parents sat under the gazebo. A loud scream pierces from the field as I fall from my broom. I crash onto the ground with a loud snap. I cry out in pain as I hold onto my arm.

A thump sounded from behind me as Draco tossed his broom onto the ground. He rushes over to me, sliding across the grass. I sniff, wiping the tears off my cheek. "What happened?" He asked, grey eyes searching mine. I shrug. "I lost control. I'm..I'm sorry." He shakes his head. "Don't apologize." I nod. "Let me see." He gently holds my arm. "Broken." I nod, a fresh set of tears rolling down my cheek. Mum calls for me, panic obvious in her voice.

Draco leans down and places a soft kiss on my arm, carefully not to jostle or cause any more pain. "There. A kiss to make it better."

---

Second Kiss(Fourth Year):

The common room was quiet as I led Draco into the Ravenclaw tower. He looks around, spinning the giant globe. "So this is what the bird's nest looks like." I roll my eyes. "Can't believe you never brought me up here before." He says, stopping next to me.

We both look at the giant statue of the founder Rowena Ravenclaw, in silence. "Thank you for tonight." I break the silence, turning to looking at him. Draco was handsome, always was, but maybe moreso in his dress robes. He grins, pushing a stray hair behind my ear. "It was a pleasure. I really should be thanking you for agreeing to come with me. Without you, I am certain my father would have forced me to go with Parkinson." We share a laugh, knowing how much Pansy drooled over him. It was a small reason why I did agree to go with him. The other reason was purely selfish.

Draco reaches out, grabbing my hand. Raising my hand to his lips, he presses a soft kiss to my knuckles. "Good night angel." I watch as the door closes, our eyes never leaving the other. Something changed between us tonight as we danced. It was shimmering, almost bubbling over. I trace my knuckles, where his lips were, still feeling warm. "Good night Draco."

---

Third Kiss(Sixth Year):

I raced to the hospital wing. Theo and Daphne found me in the library, informing me that Draco was admitted earlier this evening. The paleness in Theo's normally vibrant face was enough for me to leave everything in the library and run to him.

I throw open the door, eyes searching frantically for him. "Mrs Greengrass." Madam Pomfrey scolded me, but I ignored her. I had to find him. My heart raced as I finally found him asleep I'm the bed closest to the matron's office. "He's going to be alright dear. Just needs some rest." She places a comforting on my shoulder. I nod, her words reassuring me. He's going to be fine.

"May I stay until he wakes up?" She looks between Draco and I before nodding. "UntilS curfew, then you will have to leave." I thank her before scooting the chair closer to the bed. Tears pool in the corner of my eyes. "Oh Draco." I run my hand through his tangled hair. He's going to be upset about that when he wakes up.

I lay my head on his arm, placing my fingers between his. "I'm here, Draco." I whisper. Whatever was building between us has been put on hold. With the war coming, I couldn't force Draco into a position like that right now. He has enough on his plate.

"Angel?" Draco groans, turning his head towards me. I smile at the nickname. "Yeah, it's me Draco." He opens his eyes, a small smile on his face. "What...what are you doing here? Are you alright?" I roll my eyes, squeezing his hand. "Heard you were in here. Had to make sure you were alright." He nods, squeezing my hand before closing his eyes. We sit in silence, comforting each other.

"I almost died." I freeze. The fear in his voice is so raw. How? What? But Madam Pomfrey said. "If it weren't for Snape, I would have never made it out of the bathroom." I push back the tears. I need to be strong. For Draco. "What happened?" My voice shakes. He squeezes my hand. "Saint Potter -"

"Mrs Greengrass curfew is soon." Madam Pomfrey calls from her office, interrupting our conversation. I nod, standing up. "I'll be here first thing in the morning." Draco tries to sit up, the blanket falling down his bare chest. My heart shatters at the red angry scars running down his chest. "Lay down Draco." I prop him on his pillows. I place a lingering kiss on his forehead.

"Rest or else, I won't sneak you a pumpkin pastry in the morning." He rolls his eyes, but lays back down. "You're so bossy." I chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "You know you love me." He squeezes my hand. "Go before you get detention." I nod, wishing i could crawl into bed next to him.

I wish Madam Pomfrey goodnight before looking at Draco one last time. He winks as I walk out the door. As I walk down the hallway, I know two things. First, Potter is the reason Draco is in the hospital wing. Saint Potter better watch his back. Second, Draco never denied that he loves me.

---

Fourth kiss(Battle of Hogwarts):

It was over. They won. The Dark Lord is gone. My eyes scan over the destroyed battlefield that once used to be our safe space. I search frantically for the blonde hair I love to run my fingers through. I frowned, panic starting to set in.

Lovegood, Cissa, but no Draco. Where was he? I clutch my chest as tears start to build up. 'Please don't be gone.'

"Angel!" I turn, tears now rolling down my cheek. He was alive. My feet start to move before my brain can even think. "Draco!" I jump into his arms, causing the both of us to fall to the ground. "It's over Draco. It's-" He smashes his lips against mine. I swear in surprise. This wasn't our first kiss but Draco usually hates PDA. Leaning in, I poured everything I felt into the kiss.

Every ounce of love, happiness, fear, sadness into this kiss.

I pull back, resting my forehead against his. I blush as someone whistles being his, probably Blaise. Draco reaches up, cupping the back of my neck. His gray eyes shine with relief, happiness, and something else. "I love you Angel." He whispers. I giggle, placing small kisses across his face. He laughs loudly as I place one last one to his lips. "I love you too, Draco."

---

Fifth Kiss:

I lean against the bed, sweat dripping down my face. The cries of our new born baby boy fill the room. You know for all that magic can do, it would be nice if someone could create a spell to make childbirth easier.

My eyes meet Draco's across the room. He smiles brighter than I've ever seen before. I attempt to return the smile, but I am so tired. The mediwitch brings our baby to me, laying him across my chest. "Name for the handsome lad?" I look up at my husband and nod. We discussed this endlessly and finally decided on one. "Scorpius Theodore Malfoy." The mediwitch smiles and leaves the room.

Draco sits beside me on the bed. "You did such a great job, angel." I hum, leaning my head on his shoulder. He kisses the side of my head. "So proud of you." I look up. "Thank you Dray. I couldn't have done it without you." He quickly places a kiss on my lips. "I love you."

Scorpius, at the moment, starts to cry. I laugh quietly. "Are you hungry, little star?" I coo, laying him to feed. "I love you Scorpius." Draco chuckles, caressing the pale hair that mirrors his own. I look between my two boys.

Perfect.

[charles-leclerc-official]

Formula 1 Drivers as Supernatural Episodes

I have selected 2 episodes from the CW's hit show Supernatural for each driver in the 2024 F1 season. Enjoy!

These are episodes I feel fits a driver's personality/vibe/style/history and are meant to be complimentary. This is very vibes based XD

Presented in team order <3 (also I guess spn spoilers warning)

Charles Leclerc: Lazarus Rising x The Man Who Would Be King

Charles and the angel Castiel have a lot in common. Charles is seen as this figure that is leading Ferrari currently and into the future and his first season in Ferrari was iconic (Lazarus Rising) Dare I say some of his drives have been as insane as pulling a man out of hell. However it's been a bumpy road and the burdens of one of the most iconic teams is enough to try the patience of any man (The Man Who Would Be King) There are a lot of faith and religious parallels to be made here. If there was one driver insane enough to try to single-handedly fix heaven (Ferrari) Charles is that driver. Also you could cast him as Cas and I don't think anyone would complain. I could go on about the Charles-Cas parallels but we do have to get to the rest of the grid, so he gets two stand-out Castiel episodes.

Carlos Sainz: Trial and Error x The Devil You Know

Carlos sometimes smashes through plans like a hammer, sometimes you need schemes other times you need to throw them out the window and start punching (The Devil You Know). He's also been through the Ferrari trials which is no small feat, often requiring a lot of pressure and sacrifice (Trial and Error). I also feel like he could wrestle a hellhound and come out winning.

Lewis Hamilton: Swan Song x First Born

I felt that one of the most iconic final battles in Supernatural of Swan Song was fitting to encapsulate Lewis' many hard fought WDCs. In addition to First Born, where Dean goes to take the mantle of the mark of Cain from a man who keeps bees in his retirement (Lewis taking WDC from Seb parallels) Both massive turning points in the show and iconic, like Lewis. A lot of small plot and emotional beats in these two that really touch on some career moments.

George Russell: Defending Your Life x Girls Girls Girls

If there was any driver on the grid who would enter into a legal battle against an ancient god and win it's George Russell (Defending Your Life). Additionally George is one of the few who could pull off witchcraft with ease while looking iconic doing so (Girls, Girls, Girls) I just think George and Rowena would get along and get up to some trouble with the book of the damned.

Max Verstappen: The Executioner’s Song x In The Beginning

The parallels of young talent coming in to take down the former bearer of the mark of Cain to Max's 2021 WDC are strong. It was hard, it was messy, and it was one hell of a fight (The Executioner’s Song). Then we have more emotional nuance (In The Beginning) a guy who just likes cars and is kind of old school about them too. These episodes are nuanced and plot centric and that felt fitting. The vibes are here you have to trust me on this.

Sergio Perez: Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven x Criss Angel is a Douchebag

Do not underestimate Checo, much like you should not underestimate an arch angel that is related to you, and yet. The parallels between Adam, the third Winchester brother, and Checo are not lost, especially in meta context (Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven). Then of course Checo does have a flair and charm about him, he can pull a trick or two out of a car when people least expect (Criss Angel is a Douchebag).

Fernando Alonso: Good God Y’all x Weekend at Bobby’s

Fernando is chaos, he's here to cause unapologetic trouble, if he were to be a horseman of the apocalypse he'd be War and he'd have a hell of a time (Good God Y'all). Of course if there was one driver on the grid I know could figure out how to get his soul back from a demon after selling his soul in the first place Fernando would be that driver (Weekend at Bobby's) Naturally there are many Nando and Bobby parallels.

Lance Stroll: Scoobynatural x Hibbing 911

Of all the drivers on the grid at risk of getting sucked into a children’s cartoon I feel like Lance is at the top of the list (Scoobynatural). In addition I think he would be the chill hunter just casually explaining that ghosts are real to Scooby and the gang. Lance would also reluctantly become a vampire hunter if they invaded his small community (Hibbing 911) And he very much reminds me of both Donna and Jody in various ways.

Oscar Piastri: About a Boy x Jack in the Box

I feel like Oscar would be a good witch hunter, I also think if he was hit with a de-aging spell he'd be able to handle it and not panic and figure out how to get out of that situation, worry about the soul crushing curse later (About a Boy). And of course with the way his second season in F1 has been going it very much feels like Mclaren have been holding back a young driver from reaching his potential because they are afraid of his capabilities, you could say they have been putting a nephilim in a box designed to hold back his power (Jack in the Box). Also I cannot be the only one who sees the Jack and Oscar resemblance.

Lando Norris: Swap Meet x I Know What You Did Last Summer

Tell me Lando would not somehow end up practicing black magic accidentally on purpose and somehow survive (Swap Meet). That and I think he would also really like this episode in general. I feel like the duality between Ruby and Anna presented in I know What You Did Last Summer captures a very specific vibe about Lando, is he the demon trying to trick a guy into drinking his blood? Or is he the angel that decided to become human because he was done with heaven's shit? Depends on the day honestly.

Kevin Magnussen: Rock Never Dies x Survival of the Fittest

If there was any driver on the grid that would make crashing the Impala part of the plan to take down eldritch monsters it would be Kmag (Survival of the Fittest). Rock Never Dies just fits Kevin, iconic, villainous, Lucifer comes back a second time and is ready to cause chaos. The whole vibe of this episode is insane and it fits Kevin's particular brand of heart and unique driving. He's loud, you are not going to forget he's there, you should be afraid.

Nico Hulkenberg: Shut Up Dr Phil x My Heart Will Go On

Nico just has the look of a man who would time travel to get rid of a single Celine Dion song (My Heart Will Go On). He does have a lot in common with Balthazar, fun loving but powerful and can execute a plan, he might just end up adding his own flair to it. And I think Nico's spats with others are not frequent, but when they do happen they are memorable (Shut Up Dr Phil) Plus he reminds me of these old witches who have been married a few centuries and keep the chaos alive.

Ollie Bearman: The Girl with the Dungeon and Dragons Tattoo x Reading is Fundamental

Including Ollie in the Haas section since he's raced for them the most this year on the F1 grid. But his story starts as the young talent called at the last minute to solve a huge problem, driving a Ferrari in Jeddah with an hour of practice. I'd say that's similar to being suddenly asked to single-handedly go against some of the most dangerous monsters in the world with no training in monster fighting (The Girl with the Dungeon and Dragons Tattoo) but also being surprisingly good at it. Then we have another team needing young talent to step up and drive their car when things were down, you could say Ollie is in advanced placement in terms of being an F1 rookie now (Reading is Fundamental) I think the Ollie Kevin Tran comparisons are strong. Overall these two episodes of young talent needed at the last minute to save the day really sum up Ollie's 2024 F1 experience.

Yuki Tsunoda: The Gamblers x A Little Slice of Kevin

Sometimes luck is on Yuki's side, and often times it feels like it's not. But then again he's been fighting and sticking around longer than most other drivers in the face of more bad luck than one man should deal with, so perhaps he's won against an old roman god for a bit of luck, who's to say (The Gamblers). Then we get to the duality in A Little Slice of Kevin, young talent being used as a pawn in the larger scheme of Red Bull, more likely than you'd think. Is he escaping purgatory or being captured by demons? Probably both.

Daniel Ricciardo: Frontierland x Blood Brother

I know one thing about Danny, he would time travel back to the wild west to hunt down a rare monster no questions asked. He would bring his own cowboy hat as well (Frontierland). Danny also has that quality of guy who doesn't ask for much, so when he asks for a favor you gotta help. He also does have similar vibes to Benny, don't tell me he wouldn't make a great southern vampire (Blood Brother).

Liam Lawson: War of the Worlds x Bad Day at Black Rock

Similar to Yuki, Liam's luck is a tricky thing. He was in a will he won't he situation at Red Bull for so long. If he had a rabbit's foot he kept losing and picking up again I wouldn't be surprised (Bad Day at Black Rock). I think the episode really captures that kind of swinging pendulum of luck his junior career has seen. Then of course now he's been called to the seat he's caught up in a pretty intense battle at the end of the season, with a lot of demands being made on top of the constant turmoil within the team. Imagine Lucifer is telling you not to do a spell another powerful arch angel is commanding you to do, I feel like that about sums up how he's been thrown into F1 (War of the Worlds).

Alex Albon: Heart x It’s A Terrible Life

Alex was a rookie that went under the radar, at first, but something bigger was brewing in the background and then boom he was suddenly at the center of the driver market and was thrown into the spotlight. A feeling reflected in It's A Terrible Life. Alex is also the type of try to help someone against all odds, even when they seem impossible (Heart). Also I am not denying I am possibly calling him a werewolf fucker, here but tell me I'm wrong.

Logan Sargeant: Jump the Shark x Dog Dean Afternoon

Logan would do well being able to communicate with a dog and would adapt well to taking on dog-like traits to solve a case (Dog Dean Afternoon) I don't even think he'd question it. Forgotten, overlooked, massively unlucky I don't think there is a better Supernatural parallel for Logan than season 4 Adam (Jump the Shark). He was a great guy who got caught in the middle of something dangerous and paid the price.

Franco Colapinto: Red Sky at Morning x Sharp Teeth

Franco is one of the guys who I just think would be able to make it work for him if he were accidentally turned into a werewolf. He'd take a few months off, come back and be totally fine (Sharp Teeth). I cannot fully explain but Franco does give me Bella vibes, the mix of mischief and amusing self confidence perhaps, or maybe he just has the look of an international occult thief? (Red Sky at Morning) He'd be able to steal rare artifacts using his looks and charm I know that.

Valtteri Bottas: Party On Garth x Everybody Loves a Clown

Valtteri strikes me as the most like Garth. Fun, a little silly, but good at his job and scary when he needs to be (Party On Garth). His methods may seem a little out there but he gets the job done. How could I not include the introduction of the best mullet on Supernatural? I know Valtteri would love Ash and call him #mulletgoals (Everybody Loves a Clown). Another character who seems a little unserious out of the profession but Ash is brilliant and knows how to lock in.

Zhou Guanyu: Hunteri Heroici x Wayward Sisters

Zhou would 100% interrogate that cat and get information. He's probably an expert (Hunteri Heroici). I think his level headed mindset would also really help in a case where the world is literally going Loony toons. Zhou also has been through it, but is strong, and iconic in his unique way (Wayward Sisters). He's been fighting an uphill battle in that Sauber car, new hunter learning on the job has a similar experience, add a little dimension hopping in there for flavor.

Esteban Ocon: Beyond the Mat x Hollywood Babylon

Esteban is a sweetheart but do not be fooled, he absolutely would take down his childhood hero if he needed to (Beyond the Mat). I also think that he'd absolutely be one of those hunters looking for all the old Hollywood ghosts, he'd be an expert about which myths were real or fake and have that locked down over there (Hollywood Babylon).

Pierre Gasly: Monster Movie x Simon Said

I am not saying Pierre is a shapeshifter, but I am saying that if he was he'd be doing the over the top camp and theatrics seen in Monster Movie. Also he like Dean has a way of finding out how to have fun even when things are extremely stressful. If he did have mind control powers he'd use them for good or not use them at all, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to use them or that he's not strong (Simon Said).

That's the end! Thank you for reading. This was just something silly I have been working on. It's mostly vibes based but I had a lot of fun putting it together.

*Carry on Wayward Son + F1 theme mashup starts playing*

[flugame-mp3]

SEASON NINE FINALE WAS WILD. I HAVE MANY MANY THOUGHTS. WHAT JUST HAPPENED. A FUCKING ROLLER COASTER FOR SURE

[demontisms]

get peer reviewed! @amaranthhiding

They were stinkin' poor.

Rowena's emotional, startled at connecting to this guy.

///

Ahhhh, Rowena's emotions startle her. She's thawing over time so beautifully. She doesn't want to thaw. She doesn't want to! It's weakness, it's—

—so she refocuses on the ugly, the spiteful:

12x13 Via @spnscripthunt

[angelsdean]

In the end, the descent into Hell is easy. 

The stairway to Heaven had crumbled. The pearly gates were closed. Sam’s fervent prayers fell on absent ears. 

He was fresh out of cosmic beings to leverage for favors. Well, except…. 

It was strange how easy it had become to traverse the realms of the afterlife. Before, a ticket to Hell would cost you your soul, or a nasty encounter with a Hellhound. Now, a simple spell would do. Day trip to Hell, who would’ve thought? 

Down, down, down he goes into the muggy depths of the Inferno. Into the first chamber. Then advancing through long, winding corridors. He encounters no one. Strange. Finally, he arrives at the heavy doors to the throne room. They open before him, a chest cavity expanding, and there in the center sits Rowena in red, the bloody heart of it all. 

“Samuel.” Her shrewd eyes rake over him. She doesn’t look at all surprised to see him. 

“I take it you were expecting me.” 

“I sensed you the moment you stepped through the portal. Being non-corporeal gives one a certain omniscience. Little happens within these walls that I don’ know about, my dear.” 

Sam internally shudders at the word omniscient, thinking of Chuck and the maddening uncertainty he brewed in them when he claimed such powers. 

“What brings you here?”

The question draws Sam back to the present. Right. Rowena may be able to see all within her tiny kingdom of Hell, she's in the dark about all that has transpired on Earth since Sam’s last visit. The truth of it, the words he must say next, stick in his throat. He can’t—He hasn’t said any of this out loud. Hasn’t spoken to anyone in the weeks since everything happened. These were the facts: 

They defeated Chuck. 

Jack then vanished. 

And then Sam had to burn Dean. 

And before any of that, Cas had sacrificed himself in a move that Sam still did not fully understand. Dean had been sparse on the details. And now he couldn’t ask him at all. Because Dean was—He—

“Dean died.” 

His voice warbles around the words. They don’t sit right in his mouth. He shouldn’t be saying them. 

“Oh, Samuel.” Rowena appears before him in a blink, a hand pressing to his cheek. 

“They’re all—they’re gone. Dean. Cas. Jack.” Tears spring forth. He hasn’t cried either. He hasn’t let himself. But now, with Rowena opening her arms to him, he sinks down, down, down till they are both on the stone floor, Sam cradled in Rowena’s embrace as he sobs. “They’re dead and I have no one left. Nothing. They’re just all gone!” 

Fingers comb through Sam’s hair in a soothing shush. “There, there. Shh. I’ve got you.” Then, more forcefully, tipping his chin up to lock eyes, “I’ve got you.”

Samwena ficlet be upon thee! inspired by ruminations on this post