#and even when mary is structurally like sam

[shallowseeker]

Re; this post --- While I've certainly gotten some interesting Sam-parenting asks that want to prop Sam up as the perfect "primary" parent, I think the argument wasn't so much that Jack WASN'T a Dean "mirror," but that his personality wasn't at all like Dean's.

And the thing is. It is.

In very critical ways, too.

That's what I've been struggling to put into words.

To pivot to how Jack is an "obvious Dean mirror" with more structural detail misses the point maybe, because I'm not just talking about the ways he is "structurally" a plot mirror for whoever.

I think what I'm clumsily trying to underline is about his actual personality and core emotionality being a lot more like Mary and Dean than first appears, regardless of what the plot is doing at any given moment.

[knotboy-dean]

Ok no bc to piggyback off that Mary post, this might be something people have been saying for a long time but I do genuinely think that Amara giving Dean “what he needs most” was not his mother but to break the idea he has of what a family is, and that’s part of what makes that arc so fascinating to me

[saltbind]

For 500 followers you should drop more femchesters/trans winchesters lore 👀

gladly <3

for reference here are some of my past posts on femchesters:

femchesters moodboard edit

femchesters headcanons

i love femchesters where sam is still a fuckin. behemoth of a woman. giant 6'5" book nerd at the bar who's so jacked she could crush your head between her thighs. played soccer before her growth spurt and spent the entirety of high school getting hounded by basketball and volleyball teams. the kind of body you have to work real hard for, and i absolutely headcanon her as being pretty flat chested too. only wears sports bras or crop tops and even then only on hunts, she doesn't bother when it's just them and they're driving or in the bunker. missy peregrym in stick it is my headcanon for sam, hands down.

deanna's a bit bigger in the bust and softer in terms of muscle mass - there's not any kind of abs showing on her since it's harder for ladies to get that kind of muscle tone. deanna is strong thick - she gets mistaken for a farm girl a lot, with her arms and shoulders. i live for mullet deanna. it's not intentional she's just shit at remembering to maintain it. i live for sharpie nails, no makeup except for like fifteen lipsticks rattling around in the glovebox, still the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen deanna. cutoff jean shorts and practical boots with lingerie underneath because she likes to feel pretty deanna. i don't have a perfect deanna in terms of fancasting, but juliette lewis in yellowjackets with darker hair would be close.

and on transchesters:

t4t sam and deanna

sam/deanna/benny posting

brand-new, a trans dean fic

trans dean fisting post

ok but very seriously i can see dean as trans femme or trans masc, though i lean trans femme for him because he's very...performative, with his masculinity, in a way that i very much relate to as a trans person. sam i can only see as trans masc because of many reasons that i've gone into before, but dean is a lot more flexible for me in terms of headcanons because his portrayal in the show could very easily lean either way depending on what you give weight to.

i bequeath to y'all some snippets of t4t sam and deanna because this isn't really a fic with a coherent arc or plot as such, but it is some writing!

Deanna only grows her hair out once.

Later, after she’s shorn it short again in the same style she’s had since she was a boy, she’ll tell herself it’s for tactical reasons. Better to keep it short, to give the monsters less to grab hold of, and she knows she can still pass just fine with her bone structure. Her tits might be small still but she’s always been pretty.

She doesn’t let herself think about the way Dad’s eyes had softened when they’d met up for the werewolf hunt. Doesn’t let herself think about the way he’d gotten drunk after, sloppy like he usually doesn't, and fumblingly told her how much she looked like Mary with her hair long like that. How she had always resembled her, but now that she was a woman –

Stop. 

Does not let herself think about the way he’d leaned in. The way his breath had smelled like bourbon. The way he’d tried to angle her face with his hands, big and calloused, and the way she’d flinched from him, heart in her mouth. How she’d slept in the Impala that night, left him to sleep off the booze by himself in their double room while she white-knuckled her way through the worst night she’d had since Sam had left for Stanford with his new name and new pronouns in tow. She wishes he’d told her sooner so she could have learned about her own hidden self with him, so they could have shared in the strange joy of second puberties together, another secret unique to the two of them to close them off further from the world. 

Yeah, actually, maybe that’s why he didn’t tell her.

The point is – Dad hadn’t said anything about it the next day, so it might as well not have happened. She doesn’t have to think about it. And if Dad had suggested hunting separately again over lunch, eyes bloodshot and hair greasy, then that was just fine. She was capable. She could handle herself. She had, hadn’t she? She’d pushed him away. Left his ass to brine in his drunk sweat. 

She just – wishes she hadn’t had to.

*

Sam doesn’t particularly want to run any more credit card scams. He really doesn’t. It feels wrong when he’s studying for the LSATs, like he’s taking two steps forward and one back.

He doesn’t have great insurance, though, and he needs hormones. Top surgery. Gender marker changes and legal name changes, because credit cards are one thing but he’s not forging documentation. So, whatever. He gets his fake cards and he pays on an installment plan, gets cash advances and dimples at the staff who process the payments, implies the hell out of a rich sugar daddy taking care of his medical costs.

He came to California for Stanford, but the relative ease of transitioning was definitely a factor.

He’s never been more grateful for his height than his third year. Studying through the surgery recovery was hard, but Jess had been happy to help take care of him, and he’s partway through a group project when he realizes he’s passing. Not just passing, but stealth, because one of his group mates makes a comment about how it’s not like he knows how bad cramps can get and it dawns on him that they don’t know.

It’s weird. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Brady’s the one who takes him shopping for new clothes. It feels weird to abandon the flannels and band tees, but they’re all too small and shaped for a body he no longer has. He doesn’t have the money for the new stuff, not really, but Brady does. So he accepts the patterned button up shirts and the fashion advice gratefully and learns to be comfortable in colors.

He wants to call Dean a lot. More than he expected, which was – yeah, a lot. He’s never been ignorant of how co-dependent they are. They got more than their fair share of jokes about it. Flowers in the Attic. Are you sure you’re from Kansas? You act like you’re from Alabama. Dumb shit that still hit a little too close to home for him. 

Every so often, he gets a text from a new unknown number. Usually it’s just a question mark. He used to just respond with ‘Tulsa’, their code for ‘okay’, but he’s been sending back other stuff too lately. What song he’s listening to, what he ate for lunch. Little things. Bits of his life. When he left he’d done damage to their relationship, and he knows that, but he misses Dean so badly sometimes. And it’s selfish, maybe, to get out of hunting and still want to have Dean in some way, to give him an invitation to share in Sam’s new life, but he’s never been a saint. 

[zmediaoutlet]

Since you are the Full House of Wincest Queen, I was wondering if you had any thoughts regarding Mary and the boys after her season 12 revival?

hello hello, happy wincest wednesday, and this time a rare one that might include the actual genetic mommy and not just the self-appointed mommy of Dean, lol.

Getting out of the way early that, as always, this depends on what version and how and what's happening now, etc -- let's go with the background that yes there was John/Deancest for a while (of the kind I write where it's not Overtly Abusive but is nevertheless very fucked up vertical incest), and Sam did find out about it at some point after John's death, and now Sam and Dean are also a thing and they're also relatively happy and married and settled, as indeed they are in s11 canon. One of the many things in their dark past that they're relatively okay about now -- sure it's not a Happy Memory they talk about but they can deal and they're okay. That's the baseline. Now Amara, the idiot, brings Dean his mommy so he can get closure there, too.

How could her presence do anything but bring all that stuff roaring up? One of my foundational understandings of how the wincest has to work is that, necessarily, it has to be done without witnesses. Like Sam & Dean are relatively normal (per the many other meta posts I've written) and so to have them break this elemental boundary requires a space outside of the voyeurism of normalcy -- and part of that requires being out from under even the idea of parental supervision. This is why one of my favorite first time moments is right after John dies. Even if he wasn't there 90% of the time the panopticon sense of but what about dad *was* there, and so with him gone there's a freewheeling sense of untethered options that also allow for blowing your brother until he can't see straight. But now Mom's here! MOM!! The sainted absent being has stepped down from the pedestal and she's fucking looking at you, and aside from everything else that reorients about their history there's also a horrifying crawling-up-the-spine feeling of -- she can't know.

Dean coming back to the bunker when they're still looking for Sam and he's in a panic about Sam's safety but also like -- oh fuck oh fuck there's the bottle of lube they keep in the bathroom, and there's Sam's shirt casually tossed over Dean's desk chair -- and when they get back, sure, they usually sleep apart bc they're big guys in small beds but getting Sam back should be a night they're glued together but they can't, they can't, oh my god they can't. And then Mary wants to reminisce! She talks about how John was a good father, and how she misses him so much, and the thing is that Sam and Dean do kind of agree with that even after everything but when she says something like and he loved you both so much Sam accidentally catches Dean's eye over the top of Mary's head and he has to turn away, nauseous, because it's not just Mary who's been on a pedestal -- Mary thought that John was good, and true, and honest, and he was those things for her, maybe, but she doesn't know what happened later, and it would be cruel, might kill her, to find out --

-- and Dean, knowing that part of why John did what he did was from the loss of her. (And how infinitely worse if it's Deanna, and Dad stroked her hair back from her face sometimes and looked at the bone structure and she knew he was thinking how much she looks like her mom, because he told her that when he was drunk even if he never said it in bed.) And knowing, especially when it turns out that the version of her they had on a pedestal was a lie -- the version of John that she puts on a pedestal is a worse one. And thinking, she can't ever know, but maybe at some point when their relationship is at its worst and she's telling them she's working with the BMoL to make things right the secret comes surging right up to the back of his teeth and Sam grips his shoulder hard and he doesn't say it but he's thinking if only you fucking knew. If you knew.

(and this is why it's so fun to hc Mary running into a demon who knew Dean in the pit, or even when she's getting tortured by Lady Toni, and getting to hear in this delighted mocking voice, oh, you want to know how good a father John was to your boy? And when she's in her selfish little mind palace later and Dean has to draw her out and talk to her -- what do you say. What can you possibly say.)

[hexedwinchester]

Supernatural S02E21 All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1

Like, literally because it's another Sera Gamble episode!! She knows exactly where to jab the knife and twist it (no pun intended) 😭😭😭

Ya Jake, move along..go back to Afghanistan for all I care

can we talk about Jared's sculpted bone structure?! Like damn those cheekbones and that razor-sharp jawline!

omg what?! Why was a demon like a ghost girl?? Nevermind.. it's something called Acheri

Ok but S2 Sam hair is sooooo underrated!!! I feel I like should apologise for not appreciating it over S6-7 hair ...

i never noticed before that Sam picks up the knife from that haunted town that ends up killing him later.. baby no, put it back where you found it..

Fuck! That was my reaction to Sam hollering "Lily!". Even Demon controlling ava literally flinches. Jesus Christ, his voice is so thick and heavy!!! They didn't use Jared's voice to full potential..

Ah! I love how Sam is all simmering in anger when Azazel tells him about the plans for special children and why he had to kill Jess. But the moment Azazel mentions that it was about Sam and not Mary, you can see the sadness and guilt take over. Aww baby

Love how Sam figured it out that it was ava.

What a waste we never saw Sam use his powers to full potential

Sam Winchester fought a man with super strength, with a broken shoulder!! Say Sam is not strong one more time, I dare you!

Jake Talley, they can never make me like you for what you did to Sam!

Kinda shitty isn't it? That Sam's purity is what gets him killed all the time.. As a show of good faith, he drops the knife (one Jake Probably didn't even know about because it's actually Ava with him in the scene when he finds the knife) and in the end Jake uses the same knife to stab Sam.

This is still the most difficult death scene for me to watch. Yes, I can see Dean being dragged to Hell by Hellhound like easy peasy lemon squeezy. But something about Sam's death in this episode is so gut wrenching. I don't know what it is.. could be a combination of all: Jake's betrayal. The fact that the death is severely gruesome compared to what's seen on the surface. While it looks like death by stabbing, it's more than that because Jake's power is super strength, he uses it to not only to stab him but also to cut through his spine. And of course, Jared's acting is what turns my blood cold.. 😭😭

Jared's acting in this scene is scary good. Like the stab is so powerful, he can barely scream. The way he sinks to the wet ground, swaying, barely acknowledging Dean's presence. Then he falls onto his brother, still out of it, trying hard but failing to keep his head on the neck and eyes on his brother. Then he is gone. Hands hanging by his sides, head on Dean's shoulder.. goshh!

I think Sera Gamble understood Jared's potential quite early on. So she started writing Sam with more complexity. The very first episode she wrote was S01E03 Dead in the Water but it's actually from Faith that she started writing these deeper layers for Sam exploring his ideas, beliefs, faith and then she pulled out the big guns and open fired at Sam.. can I say I love her for that?!!

[savagewildnerness]

The Vampire Lestat intro and Lelio rising questions

Gonna share just the questions here now... I'm intrigued if anyone would like to answer any!

At the start of TVL, Lestat has been In The Earth. Do you think he will have been In The Earth in this era on the TV show? (As Louis has seen him pretty recently, which makes it seem like perhaps he won’t have been?)

The ‘spirit’ of 1984 reminds Lestat of the 1700’s. Will there be anything about the 2020’s that Lestat will associate with/that will remind him of the late eighteenth century?

“I did a lot of thinking about this sinless, secular morality, this optimism” - will this be a driving force for modern day Lestat? What will he think about in relation to right now?

Lestat says that "there was a romance" to modern music and I'm so curious if that's how he'll feel about some kind of modern music now, or, whether Lestat’s rock star career will just be 100% about Louis on the TV show?

"the way electricity could stretch a single note forever; the way harmony could be layered upon harmony until you felt yourself dissolving in the sound. So eloquent of dread it was, this music." - This reads to me like a musical description of vampirism?!  Will Lestat’s music somehow express something about vampirism? Will The Vampire Lestat's music incorporate old French songs and brutal rhythms - eerie and disjointed music, as Lestat describes his playing?

What music will Lestat listen to? He listens to a lot of Bach when he first rises in the book (while driving his Harley-Davidson!)  Is there a security both in the structure of Bach and in the fact his music is from an era predating even mortal Lestat that makes Lestat feel safer entering the modern era?

Will we see Lestat standing stock still beneath a street light, whipping through IWTV at an insane speed till he exasperatedly tears it to shreds on TV!?

Lestat talks about coming back after killing the wolves and feeling that he was ‘not-Lestat’, so I thought we could discuss - did killing the wolves change Lestat, and if so: how?

When Lestat goes into a depression post-killing-the-wolves, is this essentially a human version of “Going into The Earth” as Lestat will do numerous times as a vampire?

How will the French Revolution impact the TV telling?

Will both Mozart and Marie Antoinette be on the TV show?

Will Lestat’s malady of mortality be as big a theme on the TV show as it is in not only The Vampire Lestat, but the entire Vampire Chronicles?

When Lestat talks of how he could have poisoned meat to kill the wolves, but meat was too scarce… is he in a veiled way saying that his life has less value than a piece of meat?

“I don’t think I felt the slightest fear then.  But I felt something, and it caused the hair to rise up on the back of my arms.” What exactly is the “something” Lestat feels when he sets out to kill the wolves?  And why is he not afraid? Bravery? His hunting spirit? His impulsive, adventurous nature? Stupidity? Naivety? Only feeling truly alive in moments that contain the potential for death? A lack of care whether he lives or dies (borne of despair)?

Reading the wolves section, with the dying animals and even after this too when Lestat talks of his ignored/thwarted farming plans for his family’s land… It made me wonder, just a curious ponder - if Sam might have had any experiences in real life connected to any of this stuff, given his family’s line of work…?

When Augustin says Lestat didn’t kill the wolves, then retracts it & Lestat says the next thing he knew he was lying alone in his room… I mean… it can be read at face value, but I also wonder - is there something that happened here that Lestat doesn’t write?  And if so, might the TV show go there?

“I wanted to be enclosed forever with people who believed I could be good if I wanted to be.” - I wonder if the TV show will go down the route of Lestat’s quest for goodness?  I hope so!  At this time, I think 12-year-old Lestat found goodness in the order of the monastery versus the chaos he felt in the family castle (haha, the family castle!) And I also feel like he felt goodness in being made “ordered” rather than “chaotic” himself.  However, I don’t think Lestat would have been happy in the end in so restrictive a place, much as I am sure he would have loved learning.  But what do you think?  Could Lestat have been happy, a lifetime in the monastery?

Is performing with the theatre troupe at 16 the first time Lestat truly feels pure joy - he describes it as ecstasy?

How can we now get to The Witches’ Place if Nicki can’t have witnessed child-Lestat there, Gabrielle would never tell the story and Lestat has repressed the memory…?

Is Sam’s Lestat going to burst into tears as often as Lestat describes himself doing so, because get him ten thousand gallons of water to drink - he’ll need them!!!!  Lestat also cries at the most random moments… but we know Sam is up to the task!

Do you think show-Lestat will be ripped out of post-coital Nicolas’ arms..?

Potential episode titles from this section:

Pure evil has no real place.

Only the impossible can do the impossible.

Malady of mortality.

[queenofbaws]

Queenie Queenie Queenie. I come here, on my knees like a silly little court jester, begging and pleading. I would LOVE more CREEPs shenanigans. 🙏🙏🙏

I hope this weekend and week are kind to you, and that you’re having a good day ^^ :D

"I just don't understand how you're already in trouble." Warily, Sam eyed the papers scattered across the table, some colored, some white, all boasting the worst graphic design she'd seen in her life. The semester had started, uh, yesterday, and to see so much busywork - so much wasted printer paper - laid out before the guys...well, it wasn't surprising, maybe, but it sure as heck was confusing.

From just outside the kitchen, Ashley snorted. "I get it. This is kind of a record for them, honestly."

She turned, bewildered. "No way! I - " and then her memories of the past few months came flooding back, one after another after another. Josh hiding blood packs in his clothes, Chris hiding in the shower to jump out and scream during Bloody Mary, Josh loading Ashley up with fake contact lenses and magnetized Ouija boards and...oh boy. " - okay, yeah. On second thought, yeah. I guess I get it."

"Know what I'm hearing from all this?" Chris asked without so much as glancing away from his laptop. "Jealousy. Jell. Us. See. You guys wish you were as funny as we were."

"Oh God. That means you didn't just get in trouble, you got in trouble and then doubled down." With a sigh, Ashley finally joined them in the kitchen, giving the fridge and its colorful magnets a wide, wide, wiiide berth. She hopped up onto one of the countertops, hanging onto the edge as she gently swung her feet. "Why am I not surprised..."

Finally, someone had given Josh the cue he was waiting for. He neatly organized the worksheets in front of him, tapping them on the table to even them all out. "For your information," he began, adopting his most uppity ghost-hunt-announcer-tone, "neither I nor Cochise did anything wrong. Not a damn thing."

"You tell 'em, man. No justice, no peace!"

Sam's eyebrow popped. "Looks like, uh...looks like maybe you did, champ."

But Josh, undaunted, shook his head. "Nope. We've been unjustly accused, and if you think I'm not taking this to the head of the film department at the end of the week, ohoho, you are sorely mistaken. We'll be vindicated in the end."

The girls shared a look that required no words. Then Sam sighed. "What did you do?"

"Again, nothing." Setting his papers down, Josh took on a different posture, folding his hands and leaning in towards Sam as if they were about to share a secret. "Here are the facts. This afternoon, Cochise and I showed up to one of our fancy new classes - "

"Narrative Structure in Television," Chris helpfully added.

" - and discovered we were in the presence of, well, just a real campus celebrity. Tier One kinda guy, know what I mean?"

"Professor Charles Lonnit," Chris piped back in, only for Josh to immediately (and jeeringly) correct him.

"Adjunct Professor Charles Lonnit. He of the shitty daytime tv documentary. Anyway, guy doesn't know what he's doing. Clearly. Definitely doesn't know how to handle a class of people under the age of 47, I'll tell you that much. So what does he do? He commits the gravest sin of a mid-level college course."

That got Chris. He shut his laptop, stared off into nothingness, and proceeded to shudder. "Ice breakers."

"Yeah. Ice breakers."

Sam narrowed her eyes, trying not to laugh; encouraging their behavior, she'd learned, was never the best idea. "Wow. Unthinkable."

"Right? Well, he tells us we're gonna play Two Truths and a Lie, which is already great, right? Fantastic. Definitely no way that can go wrong in a room full of strangers. So, I being who I am - namely the king of showmanship and deception - "

From the counter, Ashley groaned. And groaned. And, when Josh tried talking over her, groaned even louder.

" - didn't even pause. I knew my shit. My three fun facts about myself, then, such as I am, were: (1) My dad's a famous movie director so I'm not too worried about this class, (2) I was once physically assaulted by someone suffering from possession and subsequently broke my tailbone - "

The sound Ashley made from the countertop was a little different that time.

" - aaaaaaand (3) my favorite color is purple." Josh paused for dramatic effect. "It didn't go over well when I revealed my favorite color is actually green, let's leave it at that."

"And you?" Sam asked, leaning on her elbows as she shifted her attention to Chris.

Without a shred of shame, he shrugged, listing off his own facts. "Yeah, see, mine were: (1) I once found a dead guy hidden inside my friend's basement wall, Edgar Allan Poe style, (2) the possessed girl who broke Josh's tailbone is my girlfriend - "

Ashley went back to groaning. When Sam turned her way, she watched as she yanked the brim of her beanie down over her eyes, hiding her face from the world at large.

" - aaand (3) I'm just, like, suuuuuuch a huge fan of Architects of Murder." He paused too, then clarified. "Oh, that's the show the professor makes."

"Adjunct professor," Josh corrected him again.

There was a moment of silence between the four of them, and then Sam's chair screeched as she pushed herself back from the table. "Yeah, yup, you two deserve it," she sighed. "Good luck with your punishment-homework, Ash and I are gonna head out. Find some better friends, maybe. Ones who don't get in trouble the first week of classes."

"First rule of film school, Sammy," Josh teased, "I will not now - nor will I ever - apologize for my art."

[locke-esque-monster]

For all that "Criss Angel is a Douche Bag" is not the best episode of Supernatural, it is an interesting one. The bleak moral implications of the ending aside, the juxtaposition between Sam's and Dean's views is so worth digging into.

Because first you have Sam, who now that he's embraced he's a hunter now, doesn't necessarily want to do this forever. And he's got sort of a idealized version of it, that if he can get the worst of the evil taken out (Lilith) maybe he could go back to a more normal life. It's so John-coded. That they both only enter the life because of a tragedy and revenge, when they were perfectly happy living a regular life prior to that. And once their version of the mission is over, they have this dream they could just settle down and be normal. They're either intensely in the life (no friends, no settling anywhere too long like how John passed onto Sam and Sam onto Goul!Adam in 4x19), or intensely not in the life (Stanford!Sam) and there's literally no middle ground. No flexibility. For all that Sam has shades of gray when it comes to people/monsters, it shows how much he's like John with how how he structures his hunting life. And to a degree, how sheltered he is to think in way compared to Dean.

Because Dean isn't so idealized to think that hunting is something you can stop. He's watched revenge tear John and Sam apart. And while he wants revenge, he internalized that if there's evil to fight and people he could save, then they should be out there, more than John or Sam did. (Maybe because of the hurt he experienced as losing Mary and losing OG John, and he never wants anyone else to go through that.) That it's a fairy tale to think that taking out the big bad means that hunting is over. It's unclear if Sam thinks that taking Lilith down will be such a big blow that hunting won't be as necessary (because they'll be few enough monsters per remaining hunters that they could hunt little to not at all). Or if his personal responsibility to hunting will be over, and other hunters are out there to save people, but that's no longer his problem. But Dean is not so naïve to think that he could fully settle down knowing there's people dying that he could save. Or that he is he stays in the life he's not going to be hands on and reckless (or at least with low enough value of his own life over others) that it won't eventually get him killed (again). It's such disconnect between Sam's optimism and Dean's pessimism towards hunting. And it's interesting in the context of how the rest of the series goes with that mindset in mind, even chipping away at it slightly at times. That Dean tries to settle with a woman that knows about hunting so he can keep her safe openly. While Sam does settle down again with Amelia and treats hunting as an old part of his life he'll never address again, like Jess all over again, but goes back when Dean returns without a tragic revenge story. That Dean is willing to settle down in the bunker, because if you're going to hunt you take the joys in life where you can, nice kitchen, having a room full of creature comforts (also not surprising when Dean had to take his joys where he could get them when he never had the childhood Sam had). And Sam does settle in the bunker, but because his dial is stuck on either a hunting/not hunting setting, he never decorates his room, like he can't quite settle in and accept this is home and permanent.

Now a good ending to SPN would have fully contradicted Dean's statement in this episode about expecting to die young because there's no happy future growing old. And contradicted Sam's dread at ending up old and alone like Jay if he stayed in the life (because you can't tell me blurry wife and Dean jr is all the companionship Sam needs). But that's a whole different "tripping at the finish line" kind of conversation about the finale.

[lazarrusrising]

Mary: I am your mother, but I am not just a mom. And you are not a child.

Dean: I never was.

***

DIALOGUE OF ALL TIME !!

Because yeah, Mary cannot be reduced down to mother, she's a person with her own autonomy and depth. And she's been resurrected outside of her timeline, her children are grown, her husband is dead, she has to try and construct an identity in this new world and these new circumstances and this strange family. I'd even go so far as to say that she forced herself into the role of mother when she was alive the first time as a direct rejection of the hunter lifestyle, and even then we're shown that she was not content. She cannot force herself into that shallow role again, she needs to be more.

But yeah, Dean never had a childhood. He had a father who was a commander more than anything else. And he had Bobby, some of the time. But he never had a mother. He never had a familial structure where he could shed some of the weight of the overwhelming responsibility of keeping the family together. Of being a parent. And that's not fair. He deserves to look to his parent and have them be a place of safety and security and responsibility. Because your job as a parent doesn't just end when the child hits eighteen. Your responsibility to them doesn't just disappear. And Dean knows that because he's always been that for Sam. It runs further than that for him though, because John instilled in him a deep rooted insecurity. It's not just that Dean deserves to have a mother. It's that Mary's rejection of that role feels like a rejection of him. It's that Dean wants it so bad but time and time again he's reminded that he's a soldier, not a son. He's not worthy.

[shallowseeker]

OKAY. A thought.

Sam’s advice tends to be a little generic sometimes, or else he basically hyperanalyzes/therapizes/overthinks the ever-lovin’ shit out of any given situation. (Okay, Scarecrow.)

But Cas has a core personality difference at this point in the series. Just a couple episodes ago, he said to Dean: “Don’t make things needlessly complicated, as you humans tend to do.”

Which sounds harsh and unhelpful at first glance. But on a second look, Cas is telling Dean not to overthink it. He’s frank, upfront, and focuses on the stuff Dean can control. That is, not changing Mary’s feelings but just encouraging Dean to try and talk to her. Oh, my god…

No wonder Dean was a little distressed when Cas showed up and responded to a chipper, “Good morning, sunshine,” with, “I have to go (hunt Lucifer).”

Of course Dean didn’t want Cas to leave. I mean, by this point, they’re starting to live together full-time-ish. They’re starting to gel.

Dean gets support from Cas. It’s weird support, and it’s a little rough around the edges, but Cas’s emotional attempts are actually more grounding for Dean in particular.

Okay, Sam has a point in 12x03 The Foundry, but I’m so kicking him in the teeth for how haughty and contrary he’s being during this whole conversation.

Yes, Sam. I’m pretty sure Dean knows you mom isn’t a “thing.” Jesus H. You blockheaded brat.

Dean, true to his own emotional interiority, wants to give Mary time and space. On the other hand, Sam is logically sound in his analysis—that she’s probably burying herself in hunting to mop up her grief.

THE BOYS ARE AT THE GRAVEYARD DIGGING UP THE GRAVES OF ALL THE CHILDREN AND SALTING AND BURNING THEIR BONES.

Sam: Grim work.

Dean: Yeah.

Sam: You know, I’m worried about Mom.

Dean: Why?

Sam: You're not?

Dean: She's back. I mean, yeah, she's still working out the kinks. We're all still working out the kinks. But, I mean, can't we, for once, just not turn everything into a problem? You know, can we, for once, just have ONE good thing?

Sam: Mom's not a thing.

Dean: …okay.

Sam: Look, I'm happy, too, Dean. I am. I'm overjoyed. But...there's something about her. I mean, something's going on with her.

Dean: Yeah, she's adjusting.

Sam: No, she's struggling. I mean, she's trying to bury herself in hunting to avoid dealing.

Dean: And how do you know that?

Sam: Years of personal experience. I don’t know man. Uh...like mother, like sons.

DEAN LOOKS PISSED AT THE CONVERSATION, BUT DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING MORE.

Once more, Sam assumes that everyone else’s coping strategies should look exactly like his own, or else it’s proof they’re not coping at all. (I mean, he could be right. But the problem is that he assumes he is. He barely knows this woman!)

To his credit, Dean shows a lot of patience in this conversation. Sam may have a point, but he’s being an ass. (“Mom’s not a thing.” Really, Sam? You’re treating your brother like he’s stupid.)

Even Cas, with his, “What has she said to you / what have you said to her?” was a more nuts-and-bolts, actionable kind of helpful.

///

Here with Sam, Dean shuts down and disengages from the conversation, and it’s not solely because he’s in moderate denial about Mary’s unhappiness. Part of it is down to Sam’s conversational style.

(Sammmmmmyyyyyyy~eeeeeh I am strangling you with my bare hands…)

///

But yeah. Bless him. Sammy overthinks. Dean ruminates but doesn’t seem to get so far in his own head that he force-fits his perspective onto everyone else.

This is another area where, ironically, Dean and Cas have better emotional intuition than Sam (even if they don’t always know it).

[skylarmoon71]

Mick Davies (Supernatural) - Oneshot

Word Count: 5k+. The ending for Mick made me sad, so I made this little fic to feel better. Enjoy!

They’ve made some questionable choices, so at this point, you really shouldn’t be surprised. 

“YOU WHAT!!” 

Dean winced. 

“Listen, I’m not crazy about them either. Especially after they tried to gank us.” 

“Then why the hell are you working with them!!” 

“Because we can help.” 

Mick walked into the room, and your entire posture changed. Instinctively you reached for your gun, and Sam stepped in front of you to deescalate the situation. 

Standing in the bunker, you wanted to understand why the boys were even contemplating this. It wasn’t just the fact that their operative had tried to kill the boys, but they’d managed to get Mary on their side. You would have understood if you weren’t a naturally cautious person. 

“All we’d like to do is help. This partnership would be beneficial on both sides.” 

You still weren’t convinced, but from the looks the boys were giving you, it’s clear that they’d made up their minds. You didn’t like it, but at the moment, you don’t have a choice. Lowering your gun, you glare at Mick. 

“If anything happens to any of them, you’re the first one I’m killing. Then I’ll gut that guard dog of yours.” 

Mick didn’t look very ecstatic at the threat, but nodded. 

“Understood.” 

That was the way it started. 

Mick would join on cases. There was still the search for Kelly, while Cas was working his angle, you were doing yours, so there were days you would be gone from the bunker days at a time. You were grateful that they’d offered you a place to stay a few years ago. It was nice to have a home, even if it was an apocalyptic structured safe house. 

“Back in the books again.” 

The sound of Mick’s voice diverts your attention. The frown on your face deepens, because the boys are making a food run. So you’re left babysitting. You just turn back to your book, and he wears a tight smile, sliding his hands into his pocket. 

“I understand that our partnership isn’t to your liking, but I assure you that our only intentions are the same. We all want to eradicate monsters.” 

“Is that what your little loose canon was doing when she tortured Sam?” 

He’s not impressed by the statement, and you finally stand. 

“Sam and Dean aren’t idiots, they know as well as I do how this all works. It’s smooth sailing right now, but what happens when we disagree with the way you handle a situation, are you going to kill us like you did those soldiers, or that girl?”

He seems surprised. 

You know he didn’t expect you to find out, but you’re frugal. You haven’t survived so long being careless. Before you met the boys, you were on your own. Looking out for yourself is second nature. Now with them, you feel obligated to do the same. 

Mick’s jaw is clenched tightly. 

“Everything we do is to protect this country.” 

“Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night? It must have been like any other run when you lost your people.” 

Your taunt seems to trigger a response. He steps forward and you falter for a second, because he looks pissed. 

“You have no right to speak so lightly of their deaths. Those were my people!!” 

He’s never yelled before, and when you hear the sound of feet walking in, Sam is quick to pull you both apart, 

“Alright, cool down kids.” 

Dean says creating a barrier. 

You back up, now feeling a bit guilty. It’s true you were trying to get a rise out of him, but you didn’t expect him to get so heated. Ketch was a lot less empathetic, so you assumed the same with him. Turning your head, you walk off. No use poking the bear further. You can admit when you’ve made a mistake. 

After the argument, you decided that you needed a few days away from anything connected to the British Men of Letters. So you took a hunt in Oklahoma while Sam, Dean and Mick were tracking a werewolf in Iowa. 

At least that’s what you thought. 

“Damn hunters!!” 

You grunted as your body was thrown across the room. The landing was harsh, you definitely cracked a rib, or two. 

Staggering to your feet, the woman just laughed. You were disoriented, and your weapon was now on the other side of the room. 

“You’re going to taste great.” 

You lifted your hands to defend, but the gun shots echoed, and then you saw the blade, right before the head of the ghoul rolled onto the floor. Holding your side, you stared as Dean sent you a smile with a blade in his hand and Mick lowered his gun. 

“Looked like you needed a hand dear.”

You weren’t sure what was more irritating, the fact that Mick seems to have greatly improved at hunting, or that he’s looking so stupidly smug. 

There wasn’t much conversation after that. 

After the encounter, all of you skipped town. You were in the backseat with Mick, glaring at the boys. 

“I had it handled.��� 

“Yeah, cause it looked handled.”  Dean snarks. 

“I thought you guys were in Iowa?” 

“We were, but when we called to check in and you didn’t pick up, we figured we’d make the trip.” 

You frown, looking out the window. Truthfully you’re grateful for the help. 

“Did you have to bring the brit?” 

“The brit that saved your life, might I add.” Mick counters. 

“Hey, I was the one that chopped her head off.” Dean complains. 

“You want a prize?” You ask sarcastically. 

Dean just continued to grumble childishly, and Sam laughs, shaking his head. 

Regardless of the outcome, the ghoul was dead and you’d escaped with minimum damage. With your pride in your hand, you went bounding through the door, straight to your room. Mick looked about ready to follow you to have a discussion, but Dean grabbed his arm. 

“Give her space. It’s gonna take a while for her to adjust to all of this.” 

Mick didn’t like leaving those matters unresolved, but Sam seemed to be in agreement, so he folded. 

He hoped that with each case that the four of you worked, the closer you would become. Sam and Dean were opening up, but you were still keeping him at arm's length. He knew he couldn’t force it. He’d gained similar resistance when he first tried to recruit hunters. 

It’s clear that this would just be another uphill battle. 

“Are you sure this is the right address?” 

“I believe I am capable of reading an address.” 

His sarcastic response just made you roll your eyes as you both exited the abandoned building. There seemed to be nothing out of place, but your eyes caught the markings on the wall and you froze. Dean and Sam had asked you to follow up on a lead that you had with finding Kelly, and somehow Mick had volunteered to be your partner on the trip. You thought it was another dead end, but the scuff marks in the design of angel wings were easy to spot. 

“Is that-” 

“An angel.” 

The new voice made you both turn around. 

“Are you the ones responsible for smiting my brother?” 

The man standing before you looked pissed, and you moved in front of Mick protectively. 

“We just got here. We’re fighting the same war here, stopping the birth of the literal spawn of you know who. How about we all play nice?” 

“And if I refuse?” 

You dropped the angel blade from your sleeve, gripping the hilt. 

“It wasn’t a request. Back off or you’ll be joining wings over there.” 

He gritted his teeth, but did nothing. After a beat, he stepped back, walking away. You knew with how many angels had already been killed, they couldn’t afford to lose anymore.

Your shoulders relaxed, and when you turned, Mick offered a small smile. 

“I appreciate you standing in to protect my honor.” 

He jokes. 

“Don’t read too much into it. It would just be too much work carrying a body. “ 

You said nothing else, walking away, and Mick just followed behind. 

More than anything, you wanted to hate him, if nothing but to ensure that when those British douchebags went rogue, you wouldn’t feel anything. Yet, with every case, Mick seemed to prove you wrong. He might not have been the best hunter, but he wasn’t like the others. 

Certainly not like Ketch who probably would have left you to bleed out the moment he saw you as a liability. 

That’s why you were a bit surprised that Mick was managing your weight as he rushed you back to the motel. Thes second you both got into the door, he was moving to the bed. You winced. You knew he was trying to be careful, his soft apologies enough proof. 

“I suppose Wendigos are more tricky than we assumed.” 

You’d managed to stop the cannibalistic monster, not without injury. The claw marks on your stomach were prominent. You laid back, trying to catch your breath as Mick rushed into the bathroom, probably to grab a towel. He came back out with one, moving to your side. All of his movements were careful, and when he lifted your shirt, the amount of blood was worrying. 

You were sweating profusely, and Mick cursed under his breath, moving to grab his bag. You were a bit out of it, but you could still make out a bit of his movements. 

“Cas and Dean are closer, but with the rate you’re bleeding, you won’t last longer than an hour, we must stop the bleeding now. “ 

It took you a moment to realize he was mixing something into a bowl. You weren’t sure exactly what it was, but then he pulled out a knife and slit his palm, leaking his blood into the bowl. In seconds he was back at your side, raising his palm as he chanted something you couldn’t make out. You did however feel the flash of pain in your torso. 

You screamed and Mick lowered his head, closing his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain. The spell was excruciating, he knew that, but if it was between a few moments of pain and watching you bleed out, he knew which option he would take. When your screams died out, your head lulled to the side, eyes closed. 

You were unconscious. 

Given the severity of your wound, he wasn’t surprised. He lowered to bowl unto the dresser, sighing in relief when the wound was no longer gushing out blood. This spell was a temporary fix. 

Many British hunters had used it as an aid in the more detrimental cases, mostly as a delay until they could seek proper medical care when injured in the field. 

He was back at your side, running his hand over your hair as he prayed that they would get here fast. 

As faith would have it, twenty minutes later Dean and Cas were practically bursting through the door. 

When they saw the wound, and your state, Cas was clearly confused, but he made quick work at healing you. Once it was clear you were out of danger, Mick explained the situation and advised that with all the screaming you had done, it was probably better that they left before someone came looking. 

Dean didn’t need any more convincing. 

By the time they made it back to the bunker, you were regaining consciousness. A bit groggy, but fine. 

Sam had practically crushed you in a hug and Dean, as well as Cas looked relieved. 

When you were out of your bloody clothes and ready to grab a drink for your crappy night, you didn’t expect Mick to still be there. He was in the main room, at the table, a glass in his hand. 

His gaze seemed distant, and when he noticed your presence, he stood. 

“Well, it seems my worry was a waste. You are practically a Winchester at this point. Indestructible. “ 

His playful words lacked the usual lightness to it, and you weren’t sure what to say, how to respond. From what Dean told you, the only reason you were still breathing was because of Mick. His spell had clotted your blood long enough to hold out for Cas. You’re appreciative, of course you are, but in your mind, there’s conflict. Maybe he could read it, because he placed down the glass, keeping his distance. 

“I know you don’t trust me, and there isn’t much I can say to change that, but I do want to help.” 

You could see how earnest he was, and he had saved your life, so maybe you could extend just a small olive branch. 

“Okay.” 

It was all you could get yourself to say. 

He wasn’t sure what it meant, but there seemed to be a mutual understanding of what this was. So he gave a nod, lifting his glass with a dip of his head. 

After that, there was a little more ease in your exchanges. You had his back, the same way he had yours. The more time you spent, the more he learnt and the less you felt like you had to keep a constant eye on him. 

On one of your more casual hunts, there was less injury. Aside from the door Mick had gotten thrown through, it all turned out okay. 

“I suppose a popped shoulder is a win in the eyes of most hunters.” 

Seated in his spare room at the bunker, you kept lecturing him to stay still so you could reset his shoulder. He finally obeyed and with one quick move, the crack echoed and he groaned as you removed your hands. He did a few rolls, testing it, before he turned to offer his thanks. 

“Good as new. Cheers love.” 

He commended. 

You lifted your head to respond, but the lack of distance became very noticeable and you swallowed at the way his eyes were now watching you so carefully, as if taking it all in. 

“Thank you, truly.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

You muttered. 

You couldn’t maintain eye contact, looking down at your feet. 

You weren’t sure why you were now acting so bashful. This was Mick after all. You wish your heart would obey and stop hammering. Nothing good would come of this. 

“I’m going to check in with Dean. “ 

It was a lame excuse, and the only one you could give as you exited the room. 

The longer he was around, the harder it became to deny that your once mistrustful view of the man was changing. With each case you seemed to observe more, like how dependable he was, or intelligent, especially when it came to lore. 

He might not be the best fighter, but he held the wisdom of a dozen encyclopedias. Then there was the way your name would just roll off his tongue when he was imparting knowledge on a case, or informing you of some monster you lacked insight on. 

“(Y/N).” 

For a moment you paused, because he’d been using your name more and more, and each time it left a little flutter in your stomach. When you realized all the eyes in the room were trained on you, you were quick to school your features. 

“What is it?” 

You tried your best to keep your tone neutral as you took a seat, waiting for them to update you on the most recent case with a witch. 

Once the tasks were dished out, you were all splitting up to work every angle. Mick stopped you before you could enter the car, sending you a subtle look of worry. 

“Are you alright?” 

You nodded, a bit distracted by the way his eyes emitted so much, just for you. 

“I might not be your biggest fan at the moment, but I am here for you.”

That felt like another part you couldn’t shake, his worry for you. There was nothing truly wrong, but he was here offering to be a shoulder for you to lean on. 

“I’m fine.” 

Nothing else was said. Just like that, the three of you were back on the road as Mick headed to his headquarters to catch up on reports. 

The case was easy enough, had you not been distracted the entire time. Hence the reason you were now passed out on the couch in the bunker. After the initial ganking of the witch, you hadn’t managed to evade the last attack. The second they realized you’d been struck, Dean was hitting the books and Sam was dialing up Rowena for advice or help. 

When you passed out, their worry increased. 

The second Sam was off the phone, Dean was ready for a miracle. 

“Good news, this spell isn’t fatal. It’s more of a truth serum. Rowena says it should wear off in a few hours. Turns out the witch gave it to some kid at the high school, she was hoping to take out an entire class, but he messed up the spell. He ended up making a mistake, so it wasn’t as potent. All the kids just got madly honest.” Sam reports. 

“That’s why she went after the girl. When it wasn't working in her favor, she figured she’d do things the old fashion way.” 

“Exactly.” 

Sam concludes. 

Dean just shrugged. 

“Glad we ganked her ass. How long until (Y/N) wakes up?” 

Sam looked a bit worried. 

“Rowena didn’t say. All the other kids went back to normal after a day, so we might just have to wait it out.”

Dean nods, then eyes you a bit suspiciously. 

“Hey, the spell was made for teenagers right?”

Sam’s brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Well, wouldn’t the effects be different? Teenagers are all hormones but she’s an adult. What exactly are we preparing for?” 

Sam seemed a bit curious now.

“Not sure. I was just happy there was a no death slip attached to it.” 

Dean couldn’t help but agree. Cases, especially with witches tend to be a lot more detrimental.

When they heard you begin to stir against the couch, they both moved to your side. Dean kneeled and Sam took a seat. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” 

You were rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“I..I don’t know.” 

You started to straighten against the cushions. 

“Well we’re glad you're okay. When that witch came at you we got scared. I made sure and put a half dozen bullets in her, just on principle.” Dean states. 

Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean continued to grin, relieved that you were for the most part, okay.

“You..you saved me from the witch?” 

“Sure did.” Dean boasted. 

He expected you to make some snarky response, but when you looked at him, your lips quivered. He was about to question it, but you leaned forward, wrapping your hands around his neck as you hugged him tightly. 

He fell back on his butt in surprise, you landing right into his lap. 

“You’re the best Dean, thank you!” 

He was a bit confused, and Sam raised a brow as Dean made a face, patting your back awkwardly. 

“You’re welcome…?” 

Sam shrugged, and you pulled away with a smile, turning your gaze to Dean.

“You helped too didn’t you Sam?” 

“Uhh..y-yeah I guess.” 

You just gave a tearful smile as you stood, moving over to hug him too. Given the adjusted position, your chest was basically pressed into his face. He froze, arms extended awkwardly as you held him there. Dean was doing his best not to burst into laughter at his brother’s predicament. 

“You guys are the best friends I’ve ever had. I love you.” 

“L-Love you too..” 

Sam muttered, hoping that you would pull away. You did after a few seconds and he wore an awkward smile as you beamed at him. 

“Well, umm since you’re okay, let’s just stay in for the time being. Just to make sure there aren’t any lingering effects.” Sam advised. 

“Sounds good to me! You’re so smart Sam, and your hair is so cute and fluffy.” 

You reached for it, patting his hair like a child and this time Dean let out his laugh. You weren’t sure why he was laughing, but you joined in. 

For the next few hours, they just did research and stayed updated with Cas and Mary. You would go back and forth making sweet comments and asking innocent questions like..

“What’s a treesome?” 

Sam almost choked on his beer and Dean was quick to swipe his laptop from its spot on the table before you. He closed it, clearing his throat. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

Sam sent Dean an unimpressed look. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault she’s got a teenage brain right now.”

“Maybe if you watched something other than porn it would help.” 

“What’s porn?” 

“NOTHING!” 

They both replied. 

You simply shrugged, and Dean took a seat next to you to get back to the books. You were bouncing in your seat in a childish manner and Sam couldn’t help but appreciate how carefree you seemed like this. 

“I guess with adults it makes them innocent and honest.” He observed. 

“I guess so.” 

You watched Dean who seemed curious. 

“What?” 

“You have pretty eyes. You’re really handsome Dean.” 

His cheeks flushed at the compliment. It’s not like he’d heard anything new. It was just different coming from you. 

“Well I mean, I guess.” 

Sam was laughing at the suddenly bashful Dean who was usually able to talk up a storm with any woman. 

“Shut up Sammy!!” 

You giggled, placing your cheek in your palm. 

“You’re handsome too Sam. Really handsome. I’m so lucky.” 

Sam gave a smile. 

“Thank you (Y/N).” 

You were smiling right back at him as the door to the bunker opened. The idea of more company made you happy, Sam could tell by the excitement in your eyes. When they saw who it was, the nodded to the man. 

“Mick, what’s up?” 

Sam spoke casually. 

He was about to inform on any new updates, but you jumped out of your seat and they all turned to you. Your cheeks were flushed and you were stumbling over your words, just staring at Mick. Your behavior had all of them lost. When you were finally able to speak, it was all hurried. 

“I-I’m going to my room!!” 

You were bolting off without so much as a goodbye, and silence stretched in the space for a good few seconds. 

They were all a bit puzzled, trying to figure out your weird behavior. Then, just like that, Dean looked like a lightbulb went off over his head, and he shuffled over to Sam whispering something in his ear. Mick looked on curiously. 

“You’re kidding.” Sam stated. 

“It makes sense.” Dean reasoned. 

“Something I should be informed of gentlemen?” 

Dean pursed his lips, then grinned. 

“Actually, how about you do a little errand. (Y/N) left these books. You should take it to her. You know, a show of good faith.” 

Mick didn’t really see the angle Dean was working, but he had to admit that any way to get on your good side seemed beneficial. 

“Very well.” 

He moved to the table, taking the books. 

As he walked over, he tried to analyze why you’d practically sprinted to your room without an explanation. He stopped when he got to his desired destination. 

With a soft knock, he stood waiting to be invited in. 

“Come in!” 

Your voice sounded chipper, a  complete contrast to the way you were when you bolted earlier. 

He opened the door, greeted by a bright smile. Yet, the moment you saw it was him, that expression changed. 

“M-Mick!” 

He closed the door, fully expecting you to maybe yell at him. Maybe he’d done something you disliked. It wouldn’t be the first time. He held your books, about to present his case, but he was a bit thrown off by your flustered expression. 

“D-Did Dean send you because he knows I have a crush on you!” 

Your tone was accusing, and suddenly your nervousness made sense. 

Mick stammered, a bit lost, clearly surprised. 

“I..I..pardon?” 

He must have heard wrong, you could not have said a crush.

You were now pacing. 

“We got back from a hunt with a witch and I got zapped. So they said we’d stay in. They are so nice. We’ve been hanging out in the bunker all day. Dean is so funny and Sam is so sweet. I’m so happy. They took care of me. They even let me help with research. B-But then you came and he must have noticed. I’m so stupid why didn’t I hide it better.” 

You dropped onto the bed, eyes lowered to your lap. 

“I’m sorry Mick, I really didn’t want to make things awkward.” 

He was still trying to figure out what was happening. You were acting completely out of character. Then the story of witch hunt ran back over in his head, and the pouty expression on your face started to make sense.

“Those wankers.” 

They knew full well that you’d been spelled. It’s clear they’d sent him in for their own amusement. He wasn't really sure how to handle the situation. Mainly because this was out of his element. He was used to your combative nature. Now you were almost meek, and apologetic. Sighing, he placed down the books on your dresser next to the door. 

“I get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore Mick.” 

You sounded hurt at the thought, and he let out another heavy sigh, moving over to you. 

“There is no need for an apology. It’s clear that all of this is out of your control.” 

Truthfully, these feelings you’re now expressing might just be effects of the spell. He was hesitant, but he finally took a seat next to you on the bed. You lifted your head, and the adoration in your eyes made him swallow. 

“So we can still be friends, even if you know about my crush?” 

He let out a soft laugh despite himself. 

“You don’t truly have such feelings. This witch that you spoke about, it’s clear that you are under some influence.” 

You shook your head defiantly. 

“That’s not true! I’ve liked you for weeks!” 

The confession was humbling. He should have left well enough alone. Heaven knows when you were back to your old self you would have his head, but he couldn’t help it. He’s been intrigued by you for some time now, but you’ve made a habit of keeping your distance due to your mistrust of him and his organization. Now here you sit, looking at him so cutely, confessing feelings he was not even aware of. 

“Do you truly have feelings for me?” 

He was more curious than anything else. 

“I do! You have really pretty eyes, and you’re super smart. Just like Sam. You’re also really nice sometimes, even when I’m mean to you.” 

A small smile made its way on his lips. 

“Is that all?” 

He urged. 

“Y-You’re accent is really hot  and you smell so nice all the time. It used to drive me crazy, especially when we’re on cases and I ended up covered in monster guts. You always seem to be glowing. It’s like magic.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. He supposed he could get used to this. It’s obvious you were struck with some kind of truth spell. 

When you looked down and started to fidget, he leaned in a bit closer. 

“Is something wrong?” 

You nibbled on your lower lip. 

“Do you…do you like me too..” 

It was just above a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how to answer the question. The both of you had gotten a bit closer, at the very least you hadn’t threatened him in a while, but that was as far as your relationship had gone. You weren’t his biggest fan, even if he desperately wanted that space to be gone. 

He’s afraid that regardless of whatever feelings he holds, it would not make much of a difference. You and him are acquaintances at best. You’ve made that quite clear. 

“You like someone else, don’t you?” 

You seemed a bit crushed at the idea, and when you lifted your head, he could see the fresh tears. He wanted to remove them, even though he knew he was the cause. It made no sense. To feel so strongly even though he knew the minute this spell wore off, the both of you would go back to being enemies working towards a common goal. 

He would say anything in that moment to change your expression. 

Cursing under his breath, he cupped your cheek. When he pressed his lips to your own, he swore he’d never felt more alive. His heart was racing in his chest, and a part of his brain expected you to pull away, or punch him in the gut, but you did the opposite. Your hands gripped into his suit, pulling him as close as your bodies would allow and his expression evened out as he melted into the kiss. 

Consequences be damned, this was the best feeling in the world. 

~Extra~

“They’ve been in there a while, you think we should check on them? Maybe she’s killing him.” 

Dean stated. 

“With what? Cookies. She’s like a care bear now.” Sam reasoned. 

“I’m a bit concerned that you know what a care bear is Sam.” 

He just gave Dean an exasperated look.

They were about to go into a verbal battle when he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. You broke the corner with a bright smile. 

“Mick and I kissed!” 

You looked ecstatic, and Mick stumbled into view, looking awkward. 

“Really dude, when she’s spelled?” 

Dean really was the last one who should be judging. 

“I’ll assure you that it never went past a kiss.” Mick spoke, fixing his clothes. 

“There’s more than kissing?” 

You seemed generally lost and Mick’s brows furrowed as he turned back to the boys. 

“Care Bear.” 

Dean stated as if it would explain everything. 

Sam just pressed his palm to his face. 

[wellofdean]

Sorry ,for me personally, it has to be out loud acknowledge to even remotely make up for how badly they treated fans over the years, the out loud queerbaiting in one breath and mocking in the next. The in text gay jokes, sexism and homophobia. The digs at their own fans.

They want the credit without having to do it. Again. They want the pat on the back they need to earn it this time.

Years of baiting for views and profit needs a payoff imo. Sorry people downplaying how important the canonization of this ship in particular is just hurts to see over and over. Stop letting them off the hook please. You deserve more. We all do.

It’s important. It does matter.

The cas/destiel hope baiting continued with the Winchesters and that’s why I’m at a put up or shut up moment with Jensen and the writers. He and Danneel kept the hype up every week that the show was airing all the while knowing cas doesn’t even get a name drop. He’s not even hinted at. Mary/john paralleled destiel so many times yet refused to call it want it was.

They could have shut it down week one, they interacted on tweeter a lot during airing and knew what fans thought there was going to be an acknowledgment or hint that never happened. They are smart people, they saw the speculation and hype but didn’t step in with a gentle ‘sorry guys this is about the new crew’ they fanned the hope instead with ‘something big happens’ that was just dean meeting the new team.

Loved the Winchesters as a show, sad it got dropped cause I loved the new cast so much. That said the baiting hurt and wasn’t necessary, the show was good.

Everyone is looking back with rose colored glasses and rewriting history. But things were ugly with the spn team/cast/writers at times. The homophobia was pretty out loud in a way it was allowed to be in the early 00s. They’ve grown and that’s wonderful but it still happened.

They need to earn the praise they want imo. No hate! Glad you are happy! just feels a little unfair to say we should all let them off the hook again and be happy with nothing while praising the benevolent straights. Just my two cents 😅💚💙

I want to answer this sympathetically, because I know it's disappointing that no one has been willing to just say "Dean and Cas are gay for each other" out loud, and I don't think there are many people in this fandom who picked up what the narrative was putting down, and were not disappointed in the finale for LOADS of reasons, only one of them being that Dean never had the chance to acknowledge what Cas said to him. I understand your feelings, my anonymous friend, I really do. I too found the end of Supernatural deeply frustrating, because they managed to erase the meaningful journeys of every single character, not just Dean, though what they did with Dean was the worst. I completely understand wanting them to JUST FUCKING SAY IT. I do. I get you. I simply do not agree.

My argument, which I have made many, many times, is that what you want is THERE in the narrative. They made Cas Dean's ride or die, they made it obvious that Dean can't carry on without Cas -- that the loss of Cas means Dean loses his will to live. That was explicit. They made it clear that more than anyone else, EVEN Sam, Cas is essential to him. They structured the narrative around Dean and Cas's emotional beats. They let Cas say the obvious thing out loud, and then showed us Dean behaving exactly as Dean would in a situation like that -- in the midst of his existential crisis about who he is and whether he has ever had free will, and with the world falling around them -- they showed us Dean unable to speak, unable to respond but overwhelmed with emotion. Like, remember that when Mary died when Dean was four, he was unable to speak? Is it really so hard to imagine that he loves Cas with all his heart? To read love in Dean's watery eyes, and the way he chokes down his heart and begs Cas not to do this? Not to being saying goodbye? I mean... I CAN DO THAT MATH. Literally everything about the story supports it. IT IS THERE.

Fandom always argues: if Cas were a woman, we wouldn't have any questions, so what I am just wondering is, why do we have questions again? Is it because we (homophobically) can't just see it for what it is because it's gay? Because, when it's gay we lose our ability to interpret narrative, and we need to be told, like we are 5 years old, what's happening in a perfectly obvious story? Or, is it a skill issue? Is it because we need the creators of the story to affirm our interpretation? We need the actors to just TELL US what they meant when they did that thing with their faces? Do we need their permission to understand it for what it is?

I've said many times that calling what happened on Supernatural 'queerbaiting' because no one ever made out or fucked on the maps table is really offensive to me actually. Don't you know that there are queer people in this world who never get to live their truths? Who just ache and yearn and want, and never get to have? Like, that there are in fact queer people who are afraid to say what they feel, or who don't understand or embrace who they really are and what they really need until it's too late? Are those not QUEER EXPERIENCES? I love Dean and I love that story because it's queer as hell and it makes ME feel seen, because I am like him! I am a queer person of his age who didn't ask myself those questions seriously enough in time! My own queerness is very fucking real, and it is UNLIVED. That HAPPENS to actual queer humans, and like, it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer, but didn't tell you the queer story YOU wanted it to tell. You saw years of tease? I saw years of choices, and love, and accretion of deep wells of emotion. I saw a clear romance, and a character becoming. It was a story I needed, AS A QUEER PERSON.

And the Winchesters was just joyful if you went in with that understanding of the previous story. It was like getting an A+ in Supernatural week after week from Dean himself. I can accept that the stars didn't align for Cas/Misha to come back in the first season, accept that if he were coming back, it needed to be more than a cameo to make it right, and that it didn't work out. I am so sad it was cancelled, but I can accept that it was leading someplace it didn't get to go. That's not queerbaiting, either! It's telling a story that was aborted, and I think if you don't see that, then that is DEFINITELY a skill issue.

I'm not looking back with rose coloured glasses; Supernatural is fresh in my mind. I watched it again without the internal pressure of expectations that aren't going to be met, and let it tell me what it was really doing all along. I am happy. It's a really compelling, deeply romantic, deeply queer story. I don't need permission from anyone involved to think that, and I don't need it explained to me. I understand wanting it to just be fully explicit, but I would not trade the story it did tell for a simpler, less engaging one, that asked less of me. I love it very much AS IT IS.

And, please: point me to this fabled abuse of fans. I have never really seen an example of it that is not easily debunked with a little bit of context.

[aliusfrater]

Saw your tags in the Cat Sam post and would love to hear more about your thoughts about people saying later seasons Sam is more hesitant to befriend people. I agree about it being false. I do get why people think so but a lot of it comes from people just not paying attention to Sam (which is why I think Sam’s relationships generally get written off by fandom like with Charlie, Mary, post-S13!Jack and Claire, even Crowley and Jody)

yeah tbh i think it comes from narrative and audience deprioritisation of sam's character and sam's relationships outside of dean in the sense that sam that is treated as an extension of dean by third party characters in a way that represents his narrative deprioritisation that which the audience tends to simply uncritically adopt and apply to their view of sam's relationships with others. there's bobby treating sam's psychosis as something happening to dean and largely abiding by the often juvenile boundaries dean sets for their relationship; there's the way supernatural chooses to go about exploring charlie's sexuality and the fact that its exemption from certain aspects of the show's patriarchal structure, she ends up in a proxy similar to dean's and often ends up mirroring dean's relationship conflicts resulting in the non-exploration of sam's relationship with her; the narrative's prioritisation of exploring dean and mary's relationship and that manifesting mostly within a jealously of sam feeling excluded from having a relationship with his mother; there's 14.01 and the fact that sam, mary, and cas literally cannot have one conversation without it mentioning dean at any point; there's sam's fundamental relationship with jack and the narrative's gradual departure from it in favour of jack's relationship with dean and that, as well as the non-exploration of their relationship past that point, along with sam's later-s14 reluctance to betray dean's will re: jack; there's the way sam's implied relationships with the au immigrants aren't explored beyond dean's acknowledgement or involvement.

vic talked about this a little when we were talking about samjess and sam's keeping his childhood from jess but there's also the dean-skewedness largely adopted by the audience regarding sam's idealised familial nonrole as well as dean's idealised perspective of their relationship, and the tendency to fold sam's motivations to fit dean's perspective of him, resulting in the delegitimising of the significance of sam's relationships external to the familial dynamic. if they aren't doing that, they're calling it a betrayal on dean's behalf. like regardless of the actual timeline of development of sam's relationship with a character, it's going to be ignored in favour of sam's relationship with dean and sam perpetually folding himself into Sammy, narratively and according to the audience. they're all connected to me in a way that represents but also exacerbates dean's role as patriarch. dean's, "she gets US," about eileen is a later-seasons dean-sam dynamic thesis to me especially as it relates to her vs rowena's roles and how they represent HIS familial and hunter role re: us vs them. i have a post on my old account that says something like 'the reason sam seems so cut off from the people around him is because he interacts with the world through dean btw' from my FIRST ever watch of the later-seasons‚ which i think demonstrates a sense of that uncritical adoption of that narratively dean-skewed perspective of their relationship with a touch of my own beginnings of deconstructing it.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @gumnut-logic

From @gumnut-logic to @gordonthegreatesttracy

Prompts:

Gordon Tracy - living legend, the true story of my Olympic triumph as told by me!

The worst day of Gordon's life.

Stranded on a dessert (not a typo! Bring on the cake) island.

It's not obvious which prompts are making it in because this is just part one of four. Christmas lead up was totally insane so the rest will have to follow after. I hope you enjoy this part in any case ::hugs::

Oh, and language warning. Gordon gets ticked off.

-o-o-o-

Gordon crossed his arms and flipped out of Thunderbird Four, into the dark depths of the Southern Ocean.

The underwater observatory was little more than a shadow at these depths. The South-west Australian continental shelf was a threatening cliff disappearing both above and below.

Gordon might have been miffed at the siting of the habitat, but these were his kind of people - marine scientists delving into multiple lines of enquiry, from pollution through to shark migration in the Leeuwin Marine Ecoregion.

As he swam closer, his headlamps lit up external sensor equipment equivalent to the average aquanaut’s dream. Thunderbird Four was, of course, far superior, but this…this was seriously cool stuff.

Too bad it had no power.

Likely had something to do with the massive boulder sitting on top of half the structure.

“Thunderbird Two, we have containment breach. Looks like a nasty landslide. Poke Johnny and see if there might be any aftershocks? I don’t feel like being pancaked. Check for tsunami threat, too.” He scanned the airlock and found it working and secure. Good. A good, old fashioned wrench with his hands and the lock creaked open.

“FAB, Thunderbird Four. Five is way ahead of you. Quake epicentre has been located and John is monitoring. No tsunami threat at this time.”

“Thank you, Thunderbird Two. I am entering the habitat now.” He sighed with relief when the automatic pumps kicked in and drained the airlock and released the far door. They had emergency power at least. The tension in his shoulders relaxed just a little. At this depth, any power was a sign of hope.

The lack of communication was still a major worry. Johnny had not been happy at all. Worse, he had trouble getting any lifesign readings. Gordon was going in expecting the worst.

He thumbed his external comms as retracted his flippers and he stepped into a deserted, poorly lit hallway. “Seabold, do you read?”

The same silence that Two had received on approach. All Five had was a single shout for help and then nothing.

“Anyone, Seabold Observatory, can anyone hear me? International Rescue, responding to your call.”

Left or right? Dull strip lighting went both ways. He pulled up the base plans on his HUD. Command was to the left.

So he went left.

It was eerie. Windows were few and far between and the darkness, likely broken by strong external lighting on a non-disaster day, was oppressive and unrevealing.

And there was no-one.

“I repeat, anyone aboard Seabold, do you hear me?”

“I hear you! Oh, thank god!” And there was suddenly a guy just there, in Gordon’s face.

The aquanaut yelped and jumped back a step.

“International Rescue? You’re here to save us?” A helmet hid their face and the emergency yellow of their drysuit obscured any identification.

But Gordon was a professional. Yes, yes he was. “Yes, we’re here to help. How many of you are there?”

“Four in total. This way!” The figure turned and ran, leading him down the dark hallway.

Gordon followed at pace. Only four? There were supposed to be almost fifty. Gordon had been following this project in his journals. It was a fantastic venture. He had intended to see if he could visit sometime, maybe take Sam or even Penelope. She would have loved this project.

“Only four?”

“Fortunately, it’s Christmas. Just about everyone is on leave. If it wasn’t for Mary, we would have left with the rest of them.”

They turned a last corner and hurried through an open airlock and into a large room.

There was no doubt this was command. A good-sized window leaked darkness on one side, and on the other…there were three survivors huddled around a console.

“Mary! International Rescue are here to save us!” Two of them looked up, hope in their eyes. None of the three had their helmets on, though they were clearly in their emergency suits. The third was fully focussed on the control panel before her. “Mary!”

“Not until we release Betty.” She punched a few buttons, glaring at the console as if to set it on fire.

“Betty? Who’s Betty?” So five rescuees.

Mary, a dark woman, almost as dark as the ocean outside, glared at him. “I’m not leaving Betty. It’s our fault she is here.” The bulkheads above them creaked as if in warning.

Okay, they needed to start moving. “I repeat, who is Betty?”

The helmeted figure beside him animated. “A great white shark.”

Gordon blinked. “You have a great white shark captive?” Was that even possible?

“Not captive.” Mary was glaring at her instrumentation. “She’s was only supposed to be in the pen for a matter of minutes, enough for a tag and GPS relay. If this damned rock hadn’t…goddamnit!” She thumped the console. “There’s no power!”

Gordon’s lips thinned. “Show me.”

Mary looked up and frowned at him a moment before waving him over. “She’s there. On the far side of the complex. The pens escaped damage, but their power has been cut.” She grabbed his arm. “If we leave her, she will die. She can’t get out.”

Gordon was doing calculations in his head. “Thunderbird Five, I need to know the power requirements for the facility’s pens.” Before John could ask him what the hell he was talking about, he threw him a scan of the details on the console.

Pens weren’t in the original plans for this project.

Moments later Eos returned the numbers he needed. Yes, if he plugged Four in to this port, spliced a few wires to give John access to these systems, they should be able to get the gates open.

“Okay, we’ve got this. We’ll rescue Betty. But first I need you four in Four.”

Four puzzled looks.

“My Thunderbird, we need to get you out of here.”

“I’m not leaving Betty.” Mary’s stance rooted to the floor.

“Mary, you have my word that I will do my upmost best to free Betty.” He put everything into communicating his sincerity. “I promise.”

“If she stops swimming she will drown.”

“I know, there’s a qualified marine biologist under all this rescue equipment. I get it, I do. But you’re first.”

For a moment he feared she might refuse, but… “You can do this?”

“I can, but I need you safe first and we’re wasting time.”

Her eyes closed as if in prayer for the briefest of moments. Under her breath, “Okay.”

“Are you the only four aboard?”

A single nod as she reached for her helmet. “The rest are on Christmas leave. The four of us stayed back to shut the base down. We were supposed to depart tomorrow, but then Betty turned up and it was the perfect opportunity…until the quake.”

He gathered the four of them like ducklings, each fastening helmets as they moved. Mary looked back at the console one more time, but was then all business.  “I’m the leader of the expedition. She gestured as they moved down the dark corridor towards the airlock Gordon had used earlier. “That’s Joseph, Joshua and Ralph…” She pointed to the tall, helmeted man who had initially startled Gordon. “He’s our deep dive specialist.”

Didn’t hurt to know that. Gordon approved. A small smile in her direction before they finally reached the airlock. Fortunately, it was big enough for all of them at once and checking individual equipment at speed, Gordon was grateful to get a comms connection with all of them. The lack of contact prior still sat eerily in the back of his mind, but it would have to wait. In any case, when the outer door was cranked open and they were freed to the sea, Gordon only felt relief.

Four sat not far off, her lights and brilliant yellow glow a beacon in the darkness.

For once, there were no rescuees sporting any injuries, and this was a group of professionals in their element. Definitely his kind of people.

“Thunderbird Two, I have four rescuees. We are returning to Four. There is a fifth rescuee who needs attention before we surface.” Did Virgil need to know he was rescuing a great white shark?

“FAB, Thunderbird Four. Any injuries?”

“None reported.” With all four aboard, he activated the pumps that would drain the airlock. His heart beat to the throb of his ‘bird at work.

As the inner airlock opened, he gestured a little grandly. “Welcome aboard Thunderbird Four, best little sub on the planet. Please keep your helmets on for safety. We will get underway shortly, but first we need to go save Betty.” A smile and he caught Mary staring at him. He gestured again. “Please take a seat and secure yourselves.”

He eyed them as they locked themselves in. Once set, he flipped himself into his cockpit and with a flex of his wrists, launched them off the ledge.

Four’s spots broke up the darkness as he darted nimbly around the partially destroyed habitat. They lit up crumpled living quarters and…his sensors spat static for a moment before clearing again. “What the hell?”

He didn’t have time to think twice as the pens abruptly came into view. It became very clear why the setup was not on the original plans. They were obviously jury-rigged, a collection of giant cages.

In one of them a huge shark was swimming in circles.

Under his breath, he cursed. “Mary, what the hell are you doing out here?” He flicked his comms. “Thunderbird Five, are you getting this?”

“Affirmative, Thunderbird Four. Recording.” The frown in John’s voice was satisfying to hear.

“Keep at it, Five. I need to go save me a shark.”

“Gordon?”

“Got one more rescue. Won’t take a moment.” And it shouldn’t. He brought Four around and activating one of her arms, pulled up her external connector and plugged her into the system. “Five, you should have control.”

“Receiving.” That frown in John’s voice was getting deeper.

“Can you release the hatch?”

“Working.”

It was Gordon’s turn to frown.

“It’s receiving and acknowledging commands but I can’t get a positive response. Give me a moment. Eos, could you please give me a hand?”

Gordon waited, staring up at the trapped shark. Stats on the vulnerabilities of great whites spun through his head. No-one had ever managed to keep one of the huge hunters in captivity, much less in such a confined space for an extended period of time. Getting her out was a major priority. He could understand why Mary was so…determined.

“I’m sorry, Four, response is negative. We can’t get the hatch open.”

He had already done the calculations. Four was too big to fit between the tangle of cables and cages.

“FAB, Thunderbird Five. I’m on it.”

“Gordon, that is a very large shark-“

“Yeah, isn’t she beautiful?”

Virgil cut into the conversation. Gordon had been wondering at which point he would get the predictable mother-henning on the issue. “Gordon, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving someone who needs help.” Holding up his arms and leaning forward, he triggered the command for his exo-suit. The robotics unfolded from the cabin walls, fastening the selected kit to his drysuit. A moment later, he crossed his arms and flipped out backwards through his airlock.

As always, the water welcomed him. A swift kick with the ultra-long flippers and he was flying towards the cage.

“Gordon, I don’t like this.”

“Calm down, big bro. Betty’s cool, aren’t you girl?” Floating outside of the cage he was dismayed to discover that he hadn’t been quick enough to prevent injury. Betty’s snout appeared to have borne several impacts with the cage bars. Goddamnit, Mary, what were you thinking?!

“It’s okay, lovely, we’ll get you out.” Balling his right fist, Gordon deployed his laser sword. Well, Brains called it a U-cutter, but ‘laser sword’ was so many kinds of cooler.

The metal bars holding the gate didn’t stand a chance.

Steam boiled off his cutter and he was ever thankful for the exo-suit’s extra protection. A slash or two and the gate fell away. He retracted his sword.

And was faced with the sharp end of a very agitated great white shark.

There was only a split second of realisation before Betty swooped past in a panic, her pectoral fin catching him and throwing him into a spin chaotic enough he couldn’t avoid her tail.

He had one moment of gratitude of being missed by her mouth only to receive a solid whack to his mid-section which sent him flying. Before he could curse himself for being too stupid to move out of the way fast enough, he slammed into another of the cages and something in his back…

…cracked.

Fuck.

His body locked up in pain, the focus radiating out from his lower back, up his spine and around his ribcage.

Oh god.

He couldn’t move. Everything hurt oh so much. A litany of profanity bounced around in his head.

Fortunately, Betty didn’t seem to care. She didn’t even look back as she darted out past Thunderbird Four and into the darkness.

Gordon began to drift in her wake.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

The water pushed him deeper into the mess of pens and all their connecting cables.

Okay, calm. You are fine. You’ve worked through this before.

Just not in the middle of a rescue.

His shoulder brushed up against one of the cages and his back flared. He cried out.

Goddamnit! Now was not the time for tears in his eyes. They blurred his vision and he couldn’t rub his face.

“Gordon?” Virgil’s voice was worried.

“Hey, Virgil.” He did his best to keep the gasp out of his voice. His medic brother had sixth, seventh and eighth sense when it came to injury.

“Thunderbird Four, report your status.”

Shit.

“All good. Just taking a moment.” How much could his brothers read off his suit sensors? Did Virgil have a ‘Gordon has triggered his long-term spinal injury and is in some serious pain’ indicator amongst all those buttons on his dash?

No. His brother had probably just noticed his lack of movement.

Movement.

Movement would be nice.

And a warm bath.

A bucket of medication wouldn’t hurt.

He was still drifting away from Thunderbird Four. Now was not the time to regret not including his propulsion unit with his exo-suit this time. He really hadn’t had to swim very far to reach Betty. Not far at all.

But now Thunderbird Four was so, so far away.

He couldn’t stay here.

“Gordon, what’s wrong?” Virgil’s voice was soft and the ever-caring big brother, despite the mission at hand.

“I’m good. Betty has been released.” And? Virgil didn’t need to ask for Gordon to know the next question. “Heading back to Thunderbird Four now.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Four.”

Was Virgil convinced? Gordon hoped so. If he couldn’t get out of this stupid predicament...

His slow drift brushed him up against another cage, but before he could collide with it proper, his fingers wrapped around a bar and he brought his drift to a halt.

Pain flashed through him. Shit.

Harsh breathing and the pumping blood in his ears.

Four so far away.

Fuck.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[arachne97-blog]

Shower Thought: Supernatural can be boiled down to a Shakespearean style play (Spoilers ahead. I'm using the season 15 flair bc you needed to have seen the whole show)

I orginally posted this to reddit then thought to add it here.

This morning I was thinking about the ending to the show and how you sometimes don't know if a piece of literature will be a tragedy or a comedy until the end. My English major self immediately flashed back to a couple of Shakespearean plays that read like comedies until you get past the climax or even until the final scene. I started doing some comparisons, and oh my Chuck, but the writers accidentally created a Shakespearean story.

I fully acknowledge this was a shower thought, and the writers didn't do this on purpose. The original show was not supposed to last 15 seasons so... this is the ramblings of an under caffeinated 30 year old lit nerd praying at least one other lit nerd is on here to comment/ add to this madness.

My reasoning. The overall structure of the show. Shakespeare's plays were five acts (Exposition, Rising Action, Climax, Falling Action, and Denouement.) Not the only guy to do that, but definitely his signature move. Pretty classic story structure.

Act 1: Season 1-3. Introduce to the world. Sam and Dean come together to find their dad. Get Sam hooked on demon blood. Start the apocalypse. Firmly settle the brothers in hunting.

Act 2: Seasons 4-6. Rising action. fight the apocalypse. Settle the status quo with the Sam Dean brother bon. Introduce Sam's trauma (time in Hell) and foreshadow what I will argue to be the climax by soulless Sam not bringing Dean back into hunting.

Act 3: Seasons 7-9 the climax. Climaxes are the moment in a story that redefine the plot. They change everything. And I argue that Sam hitting that dog was the climax. Because he hit the dog, he never looked for Dean. This caused Dean to distrust Sam when he gets back from purgatory. Sam's shame/ need to make it up to Dean influences his decision to take on the angel trials, nearly killing him. Because Dean couldn't let his brother die, he rescues and lies to Sam. Sam finds out about the whole Gadreel possession situation, and they argue, which is when Dean gets the mark of Cain, which leads to Demon Dean.

Act 4: Falling Action- deals with the crap from climax. Seasons 10-12. Dean's brought back from being a demon, we learn Sam did some dark shit while Dean was away. Enter the Darkness. and Chuck pops back in for a sec. Mary returns All of this would have been very different without the climax- Sam choosing to not search for Dean.

Act 5: Denouement. Returning us back to the status quo. Seasons 13-15. Mary's death results in the fights with Jack. Chuck shows up, gets mad the boys won't cooperate and throws a temper tantrum. Dean meets a piece of rebar. Sam enters the next period of his life alone (just like college years). He finds a different girl and manages to settle down before rejoining Dean.

I could go even more into how this show is a masterpiece/ has Shakespearean elements. Sam is the classic hero as defined by Joseph Campbell, the style of humor, even the occasional anachronism, all fit Shakespeare. But I have to go to work, and I've rambled about Shakespeare to a bunch of SPN fans for long enough lol.

[scoobydoodean]

I see this held up as major proof of Dean's badness, but couldn't it also be proof of Cas having faith Dean can get past anything without Cas having to change his behavior? The way it's structured the onus is on DEAN to work through it, not others to change or make amends. ---- CASTIEL: You know, Dean, he – he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known. So it's possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode and let it all out and breathe deeply and move on.

I see what you mean in a general sense, and it's extremely possible that Cas is thinking about his own past fights with Dean and Dean forgiving him, and from the perspective of the critique you have in mind that you're refuting, I agree. But of course deancrit casgirls will forever insist that Cas has never in his life done anything harmful to Dean either accidentally or on purpose, so any time Dean might dare try to hold him accountable for anything, he's actually just making shit up and being toxic and controlling, so here Cas is just apologizing for his own abusive relationship. You can only get their take by being deliberately obtuse/disingenuous.

That said, the context of that line (from 15.13 "Destinty's Child") is Cas answering soulless Jack's question about whether Dean will eventually forgive him for murdering Mary.

CASTIEL: Hey, Jack. JACK: Cas, you know what's good about being dead? CASTIEL: Uh, as I recall, very little. JACK: Well, when you come back, you – you really get into all that life is. Hot, cold, sweet, spicy, funny, scary. CASTIEL: And are you? "Into it"? JACK: I want to be. But I don't... feel things the way I used to. Before I lost my... CASTIEL: Your soul. JACK: I used to feel things. In my bones. It was glorious, and sometimes unbearable. But I felt them. Now, I understand joy or sadness, but... I know those things aren't in me. I understand why Sam and Dean were angered by what happened to Mary... CASTIEL: By what you did to Mary. JACK: Yes. I see that I've caused them pain. And it's clear that things have changed. Especially with – with Dean. Will he ever forgive me? CASTIEL: You know, Dean, he – he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known. So it's possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode and let it all out and breathe deeply and move on. JACK: How long will that take? CASTIEL: I don't know.

And yeah—I have seen people refer to Cas's little speech here as "condoning child abuse" and other bullshit. Because how DARE Dean not forgive soulless Jack for murdering his mother (something soulless Jack is unable to actually really acknowledge he did). I mean clearly any time someone murders your mom because she made them mad and threatened their sense of security by asking if they're okay and saying their concerning actions can’t stay a secret… That’s just natural understandable stuff! You need to forgive the person who murdered her instantly and if you don’t idk you’re kinda overreacting don’t you think? :/ I mean your mom probably deserved it kind of anyway for reading the room so wrong and talking about getting a person help. And I mean if you don't forgive the person who killed your mom or do anything trying to stop them from hurting more people you're really a child abuser... toward an adult... who murdered your mother in cold blood and is unable to even understand why it was wrong in any sense other than an intellectual one like he read it from a book... preferring to refer to it as "What happened to Mary" instead of acknowledge it as something he himself did because he was mad and felt threatened—which is what he circled back to in "Jack In The Box" too. It's only when Jack gets his soul back that he's able to actually feel true empathy, acknowledge his real actions and the gravity of them, and give an actual sincere apology. Because his soul is actually important—something this fandom refuses, by and large, to notice.

Anyway, this fandom's take on Mary's murder and soulless Jack vs. regular Jack is overwhelmingly a bag of wet third grader vomit and feces so what can one expect?