#and maybe through loving Dean he can finally start to love himself and break away from the titles other people gave him

[negans-lucille-tblr]

My Worthless Love || Part Three

Summary: At first, Dean can’t believe his luck that he gets to date a porn star, but soon the cracks start to show, and Dean gets to see a totally different side to the industry that bursts his bubble and leaves him torn. 

Rating: 18+

Part Tags: Fluff, seduction, smut, slightly domme!Reader, slightly sub!Dean, second base, blowjob, p in v, mentions of porn, mentions of sex work, slight angst

Part WC: 2874

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Dean’s POV

Dean lost feeling in his arm about half an hour into the movie, but he hasn’t said anything, enjoying the feeling of Y/N snuggled into his side far too much to make her move. Though, he can’t help but feel a little relieved when he sees the credits start to roll, meaning it’s finally over and she might move and give him his dead limb back. But after a few moments, he realises she’s not going anywhere, and looks down at her to see her eyes are closed, and she’s fallen asleep. He’s careful to shift his weight under her, removing his feet from the coffee table and sitting up a little straighter, scooping his free hand under her head to stop it from falling as he finally moves his trapped arm and attempts to lay her head down on a couch cushion instead, readjusting the blanket to cover her shoulders and arms. 

Standing up to his feet, Dean swings his arm around to encourage the blood flow to return, and reaches down for the TV remote to turn the movie off. He stares down at her for a moment, considering if he should attempt to move her to her bed without disturbing her once all the feeling has returned to his arm, or whether he should just leave her on the couch. Her couch is fairly big and comfortable, and it’s hardly cold, so the soft blanket draped over her frame will be enough to keep her warm throughout the night. He’d been careful in the three weeks since finding out about her work that he didn’t overstep any boundaries, determined to prove to her that he really is different. Dean just can’t quite work out if putting her to bed is a line he can cross or not. 

Maybe he’s overthinking it, but he decides it’s safer he doesn’t do it, just in case it is a boundary she’s not ready for him to break through yet, and takes a deep breath, clearing away the empty bowl that had popcorn in it not long ago, and gathering the empty beer bottles to clear away into the kitchen. When he returns, Y/N is still asleep, and so he decides he’s going to head home, leaving a text on her cell to explain his absence for when she wakes up in the morning. Not that he’s stayed the night yet, anyway. 

He reaches for his jacket and heads towards the door, trying to open it as quietly as he can so as not to disturb her, but the bolt on her door is pretty sturdy, and it clunks loudly when he tries to open it. He doesn’t look back, just keeps going, finally getting her door open and hoping he’s not woken her, when he hears her voice. 

“Sneaking out on me?” she accuses, and as Dean turns around he sees a soft smirk on her lips. 

“I didn’t want to wake you, and it’s pretty late, figured I’d outstayed my welcome,” he explains sheepishly. 

“You could never outstay your welcome,” she reassures him, sitting up and hugging the blanket to her body. 

Dean figures that now she’s awake, he can at least say goodbye the way they’ve grown accustomed to, and steps back into the apartment and closes her door, heading over to her to lean down and kiss her lips softly. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart, go back to sleep,” he tells her quietly, but before he can straighten up, Y/N reaches out and clutches the front of his shirt. 

“Wait, I’ve got something for you,” she tells him with a slight smirk, biting down on her bottom lip before throwing the blanket off of her body and getting up. “Wait there, okay?” she commands playfully. Dean holds his hands up in defense to indicate that he’ll do as he’s told, and perches himself on the arm of the couch as he waits. 

“Why don’t you give it to me tomorrow, you clearly need rest,” he calls through to her as she disappears into her bedroom. 

“No! I want to give it to you tonight, I planned it out!” He hears her call back. 

Dean’s not really sure what to expect, they’ve not exchanged gifts before, if this is even a gift at all, but he waits patiently, honouring the fact that whatever she’s about to give him, she wants to do right now. All he was going to do was go home and begin his binge of page four of her movie catalogue, anyway. He’s got to stop himself from going crazy somehow, and just seeing her has been enough for now. Sure, he’s counting down the days until he can do more than just see her, but he meant it when he said he wanted to take it at her pace, and he plans to stick by that. He’s not about to be one of those assholes that pressures her into something she’s not ready for. 

Dean’s snapped out of his thoughts when Y/N re-emerges from her bedroom, now dressed in a robe. He realises her hands are empty, though, and begins to grow a little confused. That is, until Y/N reaches for the tie on her robe, and starts to slowly tug it loose, and as the silk material begins to fall open, it reveals matching black lace underneath. Dean’s mouth automatically falls open at the sight. Thanks to her job and his new found obsession with supporting her work, Dean’s seen it all already, but never in person, and fuck, it’s so much better through his own eyes than a camera lens. 

“I was hoping you’d stay the night,” Y/N explains, playing with her robe, beginning to drape it over her shoulders and down her arms. “Unless you’d rather get home,” she adds, the slight smirk on her face giving away just how ludicrous she knows that idea is already. 

“Fuck,” Dean chokes out. “I mean… are you sure?” he manages to think to ask just in time. 

“I think I’ve made you wait long enough,” she nods, before smiling. “I trust you, Dean.” 

“I am so glad you do right now,” Dean admits, unable to take his eyes off of her. 

She giggles, dropping the robe completely to the floor. “So are you coming?” she prompts, nodding her head towards the open door of her bedroom, and Dean can’t get to his feet and clamber after her quick enough. 

Finally. 

That’s all that’s racing through Dean’s mind as he places wet, messy kisses along Y/N’s collarbone, feeling her hand push under the elastic waistband of his boxers, her fingers wrapping around his throbbing cock. He moans almost involuntarily, his one hand exploring every dip and curve of her body, the other digging into the pillow beside her head, holding his weight off of her. His wandering hand settles between her legs, his fingers pushing the soft lace out of his way so he can toy with her wet, warm pussy. 

Y/N moans and arches her back further into him, her grip on his length tightening a little, and Dean smirks against her skin at the response he’s been able to elicit from her. He’s fairly confident from his hours of what he’ll now call research that he knows what is going to make her make all those noises that have filled his bedroom the last few weeks. He’s imagined himself in place of whatever guy that has been lucky enough to accompany her. Now he just needs to put it into action. 

Dean slips a finger inside her, feeling her clench around him wrapping him in warm, soft velvet, and then he steadies himself on his knees between her legs, using his free hand to softly wrap his fingers around her throat. 

“Such a naughty little girl,” he growls, making her laugh breathlessly. 

But Dean’s surprised to feel her hand slipping out of his boxers, and he pulls away to see if he’s done something wrong. But Y/N is still smirking, and she places both her hands flat on his chest as she sits up. 

“Why don’t you lay down?” she suggests, though there’s something in her voice that makes it seem like maybe it’s more of a demand. 

Dean’s not complaining one bit, in fact his cock throbs in response as he eagerly moves to lay flat on his back like she’d told him to, looking up at her with his chest heaving. 

“That’s better,” she purrs, biting down on her bottom lip as a darkness washes into her eyes and she climbs further down the bed. She hooks her fingers into his boxers and begins to tug them, pulling them off of his legs completely and throwing them to the floor, his cock springing free and bouncing up to lay on his stomach, completely hard and begging for attention. 

He whimpers as he looks down his body at her, feeling completely at her mercy. This is so different to how she is in her movies, but Dean’s fairly sure that this is better. Especially when she slowly climbs back onto the bed, crawling up his body, mischief in her eyes, and Dean can’t wait to find out why. 

“Just relax,” she whispers, her hot breath ghosting over the shell of his ear. “Let me take care of you, baby.” 

Dean groans low in his throat, pushing his head back, deeper into the pillow beneath him as Y/N’s mouth leaves his ear and begins to travel south. Barely there kisses are placed over his chest and down his torso, and then he feels her wrapping her hand around his erection once more. The soft, sponginess of the inside of her lips encases his tip and Dean moans, his hand automatically reaching for the back of her head, but her own hand reaches out to grab his wrist, pushing it away and pinning it to the mattress at his side, before she begins to take him deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue softly and beginning to suck a little harder. 

He clenches his hands into fists at his side, not knowing what else to do with them, and Y/N chuckles around his length when he assumes she notices, withdrawing and sitting up, Dean’s cock slapping against his stomach now completely spit sodden and even more desperate than it had been before. He almost whines when he sees her crawling backwards and climbing off the bed, but he cuts it short when he sees it’s only for her to remove the black lace underwear that she’d surprised him with. Now completely naked, she gets back on the bed, not taking her eyes off of his as she climbs a little higher up his body. 

Dean thinks his heart might beat out of his chest, and his lungs might explode – and his cock too for that matter. This is not how he ever envisaged it would go, but it’s so much more than he ever realised he needed. He watches as Y/N slowly straddles his waist, keeping her hips raised to begin with, and he hesitantly lifts his hand, wondering if he’s allowed to touch her yet. She doesn’t stop him this time, and so his hand reaches for her waist first, squeezing softly, before reaching up further, ghosting over her breast before settling on cupping the side of her face. Y/N leans into the touch and smiles gently before biting her bottom lip and resting her hands on his chest. 

“Are you ready?” she asks, like she needs to. 

Dean doesn’t even dignify the question with a response, and Y/N clearly wasn’t looking for one, anyway, because she reaches between them and guides him towards her core, beginning to lower her hips so he slides inside. She settles and doesn’t move for a moment, her nails softly digging into the soft muscle on his pecks, and then she wiggles her hips slightly and gasps for breath, before leaning down and kissing him breathlessly, and Dean can’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her tight to keep her close.

“You’re quiet,” Y/N’s voice breaks the silence, and she slowly lifts her head from Dean’s chest to look at him. “What’re you thinking about?” 

Dean licks his lips, wondering if he should even voice his thoughts out loud. He doesn’t want to spoil their moment, not after something that incredible, but he also doesn’t want to lie to her, or make her think he’s closing off. 

“That was different to how I imagined it,” he finally admits, hoping he’s worded it right. 

Y/N cocks an eyebrow as a smirk begins to grace her lips and then she scoffs. “You’ve been watching my movies, haven’t you?” she accuses. 

Dean’s impressed she can read so far between the lines, but he instantly feels bad about the fact. “I’m sorry, look I won’t watch any more if you don’t want me to,” he reassures her immediately. 

She giggles slightly and shakes her head. “It’s fine, Dean. I did make you wait a long time, and I guess you were curious.” Dean doesn’t reply, a little ashamed by the fact still, but Y/N pushes through. “So how many have you seen?” 

“Urm, a few,” he attempts to lie, but immediately regrets his decision. He should just be honest with her, it’s for the best. “Okay, three pages of them.” 

“Jesus, Dean,” Y/N gasps and then laughs in disbelief. “That’s a little more than curious.” 

“What can I say? I got carried away, I guess.” 

Y/N scoffs again, shaking her head, “I’m surprised you wanted to watch that many. Didn’t you get jealous?” she pries. 

“Oh fuck yeah, I hate every single guy you’ve filmed with,” he admits unashamedly, making her laugh some more. 

“I kinda do too,” she whispers, like it’s a secret. 

Dean laughs this time, but then it dies a little when he considers what she’s actually telling him and why she might feel that way. He doesn’t like the thought of her having sex with men she doesn’t even like, even if that is good news for him and his jealousy. 

“Why do you do it?” he wonders, hoping he’s not crossed some kind of line. 

Y/N shrugs and climbs off the bed, reaching for another robe draped over the couch in the corner of her room. “It’s good money, and I’m good at it,” she explains. 

He doesn’t want to push further than that right now, especially not when he had promised her he’d never ask her to change for him, and any direction this conversation might go in could seem like he’s trying to talk her into quitting. They’ve barely been a real couple long enough for him to be entitled to any kind of opinion on the entire thing. 

“How did you get into it?” he asks next, lifting his head and tucking his arm underneath it. 

“I… needed money so I started dancing at a club, and there’s always scouts there, one approached me, I took the offer, here I am,” she briefly concludes. 

Dean can sense that she doesn’t really want to talk about it anymore, so he decides to stop playing twenty questions. He’s not really brought up her job much since the first time they talked about it, and while after sex seemed like a good time to start asking these things – especially when she brought it up in the first place – Dean’s now realising that him suddenly showing a big interest in her work after having sex with her might play on her insecurities about men using her. 

“Listen, Dean,” Y/N sighs, beginning to play with her fingers in front of her, and Dean worries that maybe she’s read too much into his curiosity and this isn’t about to go well. She approaches the bed and climbs back on, sitting alongside him as she continues to focus on her fingers. “I’m not that girl in those movies. I purposefully made her nothing like me so I could deal with it all easier,” she explains. 

Deal with it all? Deal with what? Dean wants to ask, but he’s done enough prying for today. 

“If that’s what you’re looking for then you’re wasting your time here.” 

“What?” Dean chokes out, suddenly realising her insecurities are about something very different. She thinks she’s not enough for him? “No, no sweetheart,” he sits up, rushing to reassure her. He reaches out and grabs her arm softly. “Hey, listen to me,” he encourages, waiting for her to lift her face as she looks him in the eye. “Tonight was better than I thought it could be. I prefer you… the real you.” 

A small frown flits over Y/N’s features for a second. “Really?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” he scoffs. “If I’m honest, at the start, I was just trying to give you what I thought you wanted,” he adds with a blush. 

Y/N laughs softly, shaking her head. “I just want you Dean, exactly as you are,” she confirms.

“Good, because I want you too,” he smiles, before kissing her softly.

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[cockslutpadalecki]

Book of Revelations (And A Side of Coffee)

Summary: You love Sam. He loves you. But both of you are too chicken to do anything about your feelings, until matchmaker Dean Winchester (aka Cupid) steps in.

Characters: Sam Winchester x F!Reader, Dean Winchester.

Words: 1.3K.

Warnings: pure unfiltered fluff, some mentions of sex.

A/N: Formerly a Patreon exclusive. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the genera bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

You drop a handful of chopped onions into the pot on the stove, giving the bubbling liquid a quick stir, when you hear Dean’s voice sound behind you.

“Hey,” he starts, “what would you say is your perfect date?”

You rotate on your heel, narrowing your eyes at the older Winchester standing in the doorway. “Are we talking about some Miss Congeniality deal or like... a genuine date? With a person?”

“What Miss Congeniality deal?”

“Y’know, the bit with Cheryl,  April 25th,” you explain with a little laugh, but the quizzical and confused look still on your friend’s face is not lost on you. You let out a little huff. “C’mon De, I thought you’d seen it.”

“I might’ve stumbled across it once or twice,” he defends, “but I don’t commit every second of a film to memory.”

“Oh please. What about the All Saints’ Day series? You can quote all of them off by heart.”

“That’s because they’re classics.”

“Are you saying Miss Congeniality isn’t a classic?”

“It has its perks-”

“Like Sandra Bullock?”

“She’s in that movie?” Dean laughs, giving himself away.

“Jackass,” you shake your head as you allow a small smile to break across your  lips. “Anyway, why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Dean shrugs.

“Have you been reading my Cosmo mag on the can again?”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to find out how to achieve the perfect orgasm,” he reacts with fake offense. 

You scoff mockingly. “Did you come across a map on how to find the G-spot?” 

Dean’s face drops. “I’m serious, just answer the damn question.”

“Ooh, I hit a nerve,” you laugh, but Dean doesn’t share your sentiment. “Well, um, I guess, it’d be nice to go to one of those vintage book shops, y’know, the ones with the little cafes inside.”

Dean nods, and you reluctantly continue.

“Spend a couple of hours talking about our favourite novels over a coffee or two.”

“What about after that?”

“Like, sex you mean?”

“Yeah.”

You screw up your nose. “I wouldn’t put out on the first date.”

“Not even on your perfect date?” he asks as you shake your head. “What if it was with Sam?” Dean cajoles, flashing you a wink.

“Dean!”

It’s no secret that you’ve been harbouring feelings for the younger Winchester for a while now— except maybe to Sam, and Dean takes whatever opportunity he can get to tease you for not making a move. You’re far too shy for that.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t want to come back here and y’know?” Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

“Why’d you always have to be so crass?” you tut with a small roll of your eyes.

“Jeez, you two really are made for each other,” Dean mutters under his breath, but you don’t hear him, your attention already back on the sweet smelling bolognese cooking away in the saucepan.

-

“Meet me at Bradbury Books, 8pm.”

That’s all the instruction you get from Dean a week later. You reply asking if it’s related to a case you’ve not been made privy to yet, but he fails to respond, leaving you in a curious state for the rest of the day. What could Dean possibly want with you at a bookstore, of all places?

You trundle inside the quaint little shop at 7:56, eyes darting back and forth through the aisles, trying to see if he’s hidden away between them, to no avail. Eventually you give up, walking down to the cluster of tables tucked neatly away at the back of the store. A few delicate red and pink decorations adorn the wall furthest from you, but you think nothing of it. But your attention is finally drawn to the handful of balloons with the words, “Happy Valentines Day,” emblazoned across them in swirly white writing that softly sway to the steady hum of the A/C.

Of course. Today is February 14th. 

Great. Always a joy being single at this time of year.

The cafe section is practically empty except for the cashier leant over the counter— head buried in an extremely well-read paperback version of The Shining. Then there’s a couple by the window staring lovingly at each other over two steaming mugs of coffee and… Sam.

Wait, Sam?

There’s a closed copy of The Marvelous Land of Oz on the table next to him, while his hands are curled around a cup of what you assume must be herbal tea from the green liquid, almost murky against the stark contrast of the white ceramic. You’re sidetracked momentarily, thoughts drifting to fantasies of those large hands on you, pawing at your ample flesh. They’re so big that they easily overlap where they meet around the sides of the dainty cup, the fingers from his left hand entwined within the fingers of his right.

He doesn’t notice you until you’re almost at the table, eyes widening when he finally looks up, confusion etched on his features.

Your name oozes from his lips as he questions softly, “What are you doing here?”

“Dean asked me to meet him,” you explain, sliding into the seat opposite. You suddenly feel incredibly underdressed— your ripped jeans and oversized t-shirt are perfect to meet up with Dean to discuss case details, but if you’d known Sam would be here too, you would’ve made more of an effort.

“That’s weird, Dean asked me to meet him too.” Sam leans back in his chair, thumbing inside his pocket for something before pulling his cell free. “Lemme give him a call.”

“Maybe he’s just late?” you offer as Sam puts the device to his ear, waiting for his brother to pick up.

“Oh, hey, where are you?” Sam asks Dean, placing the phone onto the table as he presses the speaker icon, giving you a chance to listen in on the conversation too.

“Just at a bar over in Burr Oak,” Dean tells them. “It’s 2-4-1 cocktails night and there’s a bachelorette party that’s just walked in. One of the bridesmaids is in clear need of my assistance,” he adds with a knowing laugh.

“But you asked us to meet you here at 8,” Sam replies tersely.

The line is silent for a moment before you hear Dean chuckle. “Oh yeah, about that,” he elaborates. “Figured you two should spend Valentine’s together considering you’re both head over heels in love with each other.”

You almost choke on your own tongue at Dean’s words, feeling Sam’s eyes trained on you as your entire body flushes hot at the admission.

Dean has to be joking, right? Sam? In love with you?

“Dude, what are you-” Sam starts at the same time as you try to interject. “No Dean, don’t be silly-”

“Hey!” Dean shouts down the line. “Cut it out, both of you. I’ve seen the longing looks you give each other, and all that awkward small talk. God, it’s exhausting. Just admit your feelings and fuck all that sexual tension out like adults, okay?”

“Dean,” Sam protests through gritted teeth, quickly flashing an apologetic smile toward the couple by the window who catch Dean’s crude and less than subtle attempts to bring you together.

“Look, enjoy a cup of coffee and talk about old books, or whatever it is you two do, and then the Bunker is all yours,” Dean continues. “Even though you both said no sex on the first date, I really think ya would make an exception for the other. Just don’t do it in the kitchen, y’hear? That’s just unsanitary.”

The line suddenly goes dead. Both of you sit embarrassed in silence momentarily, not wanting to look at each other until he clears his throat and you glance up through thick eyelashes. 

Sam smiles, dimples in full effect. “So, I guess he asked about your perfect date too then, huh?” 

***

SPN: @akshi8278​ @cluz1babe​ @deanwanddamons​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @flamencodiva​ @fanfictionandfluff​ @hobby27​ @hoboal87​ @jensenswinchester​ @jc-winchester​ @katelyn--renee​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @peachyafshawn​ @ravenclawfitzgerald​ @spnbaby-67​ @sammykb1994​ @sucker-for-dean​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @waywardbaby​ @winchest09​

4EVS: @amirra88​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @cheesyclaire​ @chibijusstuff​ @callsignrambam​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @daughterofthenight117​ @doozywoozy​ @foxyjwls007​ @geekofmanyforms​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets​ @ilovefanfic86​ @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @labella420​ @mogaruke​ @maliburenee​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nik2writes​ @obsessivelycapricious​ @patrick-hockslutter​ @princessmisery666​ @phildunphyisadilf​ @sage-writing​ @sea040561​ @sweeterthanthis​ @slutformarvelmen​ @smokeandnailz​ @stoneyggirl​ @stoneyggirl2​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @unfortunate-brat​ @wayward-dreamer​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​

[prosopopeya]

Dean watches heartstopper fic?? 👀 pls tell me more

YES!!! so the basic premise is: it's post canon, cas and jack are human and living in the bunker with dean and sam. dean starts watching heartstopper with jack and cas on jack's insistence, and gradually it starts to make things click for dean in his mind about his own sexuality and his feelings for cas. the fic is set up in sections that kind of mirror in some capacity the different episodes; chapter one is "meet," chapter two is "crush," etc. the angst surrounding him and cas getting together is kind of minimal and is a lot more about dean coming to terms with his bisexuality

as a fun side bonus sam spends nearly the entire fic completely and utterly oblivious while simultaneously accidentally microaggressing against dean and cas

here is a snippet!!!

On impulse, Dean reaches out for the computer and sets it between them. The screen doesn't quite lay right though, so he adjusts his knee, and Cas starts moving too, his leg coming closer, until together they've formed a mostly even surface for the laptop. Cas's legs are under the covers, and Dean's are on top, but he can still feel the warmth of his leg through the blankets. 

Dean hits the spacebar and the show starts playing again. 

They don't speak, or move, in a mostly very normal way until the bit with Charlie asleep on the couch, and Nick hovering his hand over his, sparks flying. Then suddenly they are Not Moving in a very fidgety way, and Dean's aware of every point of contact between them. The press of Cas's leg against his knee. The brush of skin where their elbows just touch. The warmth between them.

When the credits roll, when the next episode autoplays, Dean says, "Shouldn't we wait for Jack?" 

"That's okay," Cas says, quickly. "He'll understand." 

More silence, more stillness. In the show, there's a party, and Nick finds out an old friend is a lesbian, and Dean thinks so hard about Charlie that he almost feels her absence like a missing limb. 

"It's good," Dean says, breaking their silence finally, "that these kinds of shows are just out there. You know? Just sweet and wholesome and shit. Good for Jack and--Claire and Kaia, you know, to see this kind of stuff." 

"Yes, it is," Cas agrees softly. Dean feels his eyes on him. 

"I didn't see a lot of this stuff," Dean gestures at the screen, at the two girls kissing in the middle of the party, at Nick watching, seeing, "when I was growing up. I mean, stuff like this existed, but I--" He closes his mouth, glances at Cas out of the corner of his eye, pulls his arms in closer to himself. For some reason, he remembers being in a confessional a few years ago, saying something like what he's about to say. "But it feels different now, watching this. I don't know what it would've been like if I'd seen this when I was Jack's age--well, a teenager, I guess." 

Dean's heart is starting to race, he thinks, or just getting louder, thudding harder. His face feels hot. Cas's fingers brush his arm. This moment--the room, the laptop, everything outside of the two of them and this bed--starts to feel like it's swirling around him, like walking down one of those wacky tunnels at a carnival. 

"What do you mean?" 

Dean glances over, quick, because Cas's face is too much to take in now, glowing in the light of the computer screen. He shrugs, adjusts his leg, drawing it away from Cas and making it so he has to adjust the laptop again. Cas, reflexively, reaches out to help, their fingers touching. Dean pulls his arms back in, gripping his own elbows.

"I didn't understand, for a long time, about love." Cas's words are slow, hesitant. Careful. "I thought I did, maybe, though truthfully I didn't think much about it at all. I don't think I completely appreciated the breadth of the experience until I became human myself." 

His mind offers up the memory of Cas in his little vest, his face when Dean approached the register, when they were saying goodbye. Dean curls his fingers tighter against his skin.

"Before, I might've felt--" Cas cuts himself off. "But it wasn't until I was human that I realized what it really was." 

On the screen, the music's swelling, and the boys are kissing, their first kiss, and something inside Dean wants.

Dean turns to him, abrupt. "Cas, you said that-- You said you wanted something you couldn't have." Cas inhales, a little sharply. But Dean has to ask; he has to know. "But if--if what you wanted was to just--" How can he even say it, put it into words? What is he even trying to describe? "If you wanted it to be me and you, then you've got that. I can't picture a future for me without you in it." When the words come to him, they almost startle him. "I can't picture a future for me with anyone else, either. Not--not like that." 

Once he's said it out loud, Dean can almost hear the answer already, but if he'd been ready to want that, to have that, just as it was, then maybe Cas is the same? Maybe this is all some misunderstanding; maybe Cas wants what Dean's wanted all along, and they really can just go back to being normal.

"Dean--" Cas's eyes are widening, his hand on Dean's arm again, but Dean isn't really seeing him at all as he stops the death grip on his elbows and reaches--just reaches.

"But was there-- Is there something else that you want?" 

It's stupid that he can't even articulate it. What is he, some kid? Hell, those kids did a better job of asking for what they wanted. 

Cas's face kind of crumples, his shoulders slumping. "That's not important, Dean." 

But it is that important. He has to make Cas understand. 

"I love you--" There's a thrill that runs through him, electricity up his spine, when he decides that he's not going to tack on any qualifier to that--no brother, no family--but Cas cuts in before he could've, even if he wanted to.

"I know--"

"--and I thought I knew what that meant, but now I--" Dean stops, searching Cas's face, but it's hard to read in the darkness. "I don't know."

When Cas speaks, he sounds breathless. "What are you saying, Dean?" 

and for a fun bonus, here is accidentally homophobic Sam:

Cas clears his throat. "No, I--" He flicks his eyes to Dean before he seems to make a decision and firmly turns his focus to Sam. "I think I've isolated the problem." 

"Oh yeah?" Sam says, like from the far end of a tunnel, at least to Dean's ears.

"Yes. I didn't have any issue at all last night falling asleep while Dean was still in the room. I think--being alone--it's too much like the Empty. It's difficult to relax, and then I carry that anxiety into my dreams." 

Sam had shot Dean a delighted, mocking, little brother sort of smile when Cas mentioned falling asleep, but now he chews his toast thoughtfully. "That makes sense. Maybe we could set you and Jack up to share a room." 

"No," Cas cuts in swiftly, maybe too swiftly because that draws Sam's attention again. Cas doesn't look at Dean, but Dean thinks he sees him react to Dean's warning face as he straightens his spine, just a little. "No, I wouldn't want to trouble him. He doesn't need to worry about me. Dean said he didn't mind helping." 

Dean schools his expression in time for Sam to grin over at him. Cas shovels eggs into his mouth. 

"Did he?" 

Dean feels himself shrugging back into the gruff act like he used to shrug into his dad's jacket. "It's not a big deal. We used to share a room all the time." 

"Uh-huh," Sam says, still grinning. "Should we set Cas's room up for your doctor-mandated sleepovers?" 

"Don't be jealous," Dean fires back. "We'll still braid your hair whenever you want." 

[hahahahahangst]

Anyone who knows what love is (Be The Young 39)

TW: [suicidal thoughts, self h*rm, violence, s*xual assault]

Other tags: [sister fic, canon-level violence, dean is an asshole, angst]

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will occasionally break canon✨ .

Summary: Emily Reed, born and raised in Portland, is preparing her admission papers for Stanford, medical school. Little does she know, her life is about to change forever.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N:  We're getting to the end of the season!

MASTERLIST

Anyone who knows what love is

You can run around Even put me down Still I'll be there for you The world May think I'm foolish They can't see you Like I can

“Has any of you two been listening to anything I’ve said?” Asked Bobby. Dean was staring out of the window, Emily at the ceiling. Bobby had been talking for about ten minutes: she had not listened much, but enough to know what he’d been talking about. 

“Yeah, we heard you.” She muttered.

“And?” 

Emily and Dean looked at each other. Emily spoke first. “We’re not calling him.” She went back to staring at the ceiling. She ignored Bobby’s following phrase. However, she heard Dean’s.

“We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?”

“I know you’re pissed-”

Emily cut him off. “That’s reductive.”

“Look-I’m not making apologies, but he’s your-”

“Don’t even try bringing blood into this mess.” Scoffed Emily.

“He’s your brother. And he’s drowning.”

“Bobby, we tried. We told him again and again- He wouldn’t listen.” Emily sat straighter to look at the old man.

“It’s too late.” Added Dean. 

“Are you two out of your mind?” Asked Bobby, nervous. Dean paced on the other side of the room.

“No, damnit!” He turned around. “No. We gotta face the facts.” He sighed. “Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again.” Dean sat on a chair that was lying next to him, sad. “Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants.”

“You don't mean that.” Said Bobby. 

“Bobby, you weren’t there, you didn’t see- He’s gone. He’s not Sam.” Explained Emily.

“If he ever was.” Exhaled Dean.

All of a sudden, Bobby kicked a table, making all its content fall on the floor. Emily, startled, stood up. Dean did the same.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess!” Mocked the man. “Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!”

“That’s not how family works!” Answered Emily, upset. “And we told him- he walked out, he was choosing Ruby. He walked out, Bobby! He chose!” 

“You know who you two sound like?” Asked Bobby. “John Winchester! Let me tell you something about your dad: he was a coward!”

“My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?” Asked Dean. Emily groaned, exasperated. 

“He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him.” Explained Bobby. “Well, that don't strike me as brave.” 

“Bobby, I don’t give a fuck about what my dad did or didn’t do!” Yelled Emily. “What matters is that Sam is not himself anymore and he- HE CHOSE A FUCKING DEMON OVER US!” She repeated, accusatively pointing at Bobby. 

“HE NEEDS HIS SIBLINGS!” 

“HE COULD HAVE GOTTEN THEM IF HE WANTED TO!” With one final yell, Emily fell back on the couch. “But he didn’t.” She dried her face. “So now-” She cut herself off. 

Dean glared at her. “Now we have to find a way to prevent the apocalypse.” He concluded. In a blink, Dean had disappeared. A couple of seconds later, as she was still processing, Ramiel appeared in the room, apparently in a hurry. 

“Cazzo!” He yelled, looking around. “I’m too late, am I?”

”...were you looking for Dean?” 

“Yes.” He recollected himself. Emily’s stomach contorted. Damn, he was hot. It seemed unfair to be that attractive in such an emergency.

“Well, he just disappeared.” Emily shook away her thoughts. “Let me guess- It was your people.”

“Oh, Emily, they’re not my people anymore. I’m on the run.” He explained, closing his jacket.

“Meaning?” The girl stood up and reached for her laptop. 

“I rebelled, tesoro. I refused to follow their orders.” Said Ramiel.

“Well- Where are they keeping Dean?” Emily opened her laptop and placed it on her knees, looking at the angel. Ramiel didn’t answer. “Miele, I know you know. Just tell me.” Ramiel seemed to break a little when Emily used the nickname on him.

“Sì, sì, you’re right. I do know. But I don’t think it’s wise to go there.” 

“Why?” 

“Once we get in, they won’t let us out.” He exhaled.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Emily browsed to the phone company website on her laptop. “I’m not gonna sit here and watch the world burn. Ramiel, if we can’t get to Dean, then we need to get to Sam.”

“I don't know where he is. He's protected against my sight.” 

Emily looked up at the angel. “If I tell you where he is, can you help me get there?” She asked. The angel seemed set back by her words, but was quick to answer. 

“Anything.” 

Emily spent the next several hours fighting with the phone company to get Sam’s phone and GPS turned on, to no avail. 

“Damn it!” She threw her phone across the room. “I’ve literally run out of numbers to call. We’re not gonna find Sam like this!” She paced back and forth in the room. 

Bobby entered the room holding a book. “What if we didn’t go to Sam, but we went directly to Lilith? He said he was close, right?” 

“Yeah-” Emily stood straighter, realizing what book he was holding. “You’re right! We found her once with a tracking spell, right?” 

“Exactly.” Bobby looked at Emily. “But kid, if you get there and Sam still has to arrive…“ 

“We’re all dead.” She exhaled and put her hands on her waist. She looked at Ramiel. He was leaning against a wall, distractingly looking at his cufflings. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take.” She touched the angel on his shoulder. He raised his gaze. “Are you in?” Asked Emily. Ramiel nodded and pushed himself away from the wall.

It was almost night again before the spell was ready. Emily was standing next to a window, looking out as if Dean was to pull into the backyard of Bobby’s at any moment. She tried calling him for what was probably the fortieth time. She left another voicemail.

“Dean, I don’t know if you are getting these, but- Wherever you are, me and Ramiel are going after Lilith. I’m gonna put an end to this, okay? Please call me- call me if you’re still alive, okay?” She flipped her phone close and leaned on the cold window glass. She felt someone’s presence behind her. “What, you eavesdropping on my phone calls now, Miele?” 

“I’m an angel, I can hear through walls.” Emily, still looking out the window, felt Ramiel get closer and put his hands on her shoulder. They were weirdly warm to belong to a body which had probably died years prior. Ramiel ran his thumbs up and down on Emily’s shoulder.

“The spell is ready. Did you pack everything you need?” He asked. Emily looked over at her backpack, which laid on the floor, still packed with dirty clothes. 

“No, but- it’s no use. You know we’ll probably die, right?” She turned towards him and sat on the ledge of the window. “Miele, why are you coming on this suicide mission with me?” 

“I like you.” Shrugged Ramiel. “And I don’t want the apocalypse.” 

Emily shook her head. “Like me, like me, or… just like me?” She joked. Ramiel looked at her, extremely confused. “Nevermind- you said the spell was ready, right?” The angel nodded and left the room. As he turned away, Emily checked his figure and shrugged, thinking that maybe, if they survived, some angel sex could have been fun. 

Emily caught herself thinking about it a little too explicitly. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to die and I’m thinking about sex.” She whispered to herself as she entered Bobby’s living room. The man looked at her. 

“Pardon me?” He asked, trying to hide a smile. 

“Nothing- the spell?” She said, awkwardly gesturing in front of her. 

Bobby placed a map under a pendulum, then performed the spell. The pendulum started swinging and eventually stopped on a very precise location. Emily leaned over the table to see better. 

“That’s…“ She squinted. “A random empty road in Kansas?” She tried looking closer.

“Well, I doubt Lilith is hiding in a roadhouse.” Said Bobby. “The spell should be precise to the street. Let’s take a closer look at that road.” Bobby turned around and fished another map from a box. He opened it in front of his and Emily and Ramiel walked behind the man to see. “Here.” Bobby pointed to the street. “There’s not much, a convent and a high school.” 

“Well, it has to be either one of the other.” Emily walked to her laptop in the other room and brought it back to where the man and Ramiel were waiting. She typed in the name of the convent and started looking for news. 

“Got it.” She smiled, proud of herself, after snooping around for a bit, hunched over the now dismantled spell. “In ‘72 the convent was abandoned after a priest killed eight nuns.” She glared at Bobby. “And get this-” She continued. “The priest said a demon named Azazel made him do it.” 

“Well, that seems too much of a coincidence to not be the right place.”

 Emily didn’t waste another second and stood up, hurriedly grabbing her backpack. Ramiel followed her. He was about to teleport her, but she stopped him. She walked back to Bobby and hugged him. “Thank you.” She said. “I’ll see you- at one point.” He patted her on the back. Emily gestured at Ramiel and in a blink, she was in another room. 

Immediately, her mind was overwhelmed by Sam’s thoughts and feelings. She felt a mix of anger and fear. In front of her was Dean, trying to break down a large door, unsuccessfully. When she saw her, he stopped. 

“What-” He started to say. She interrupted him immediately, hurrying towards the door. 

“Yeah, what are you doing here, this is not safe- whatever, move!” With a hand gesture, she forced the door open. 

”...even you have to admit…I'm- I'm awesome!” Ruby's voice said. Emily charged in the room, ready to fight Lilith, but she was too late.

Lilith’s body was already lifeless, slumped on the altar, blood dripping copiously out of it. When she looked back, Ramiel was standing in the middle of the door and Dean was a couple of steps further.

In front of her, instead, were Lilith’s body, Sam, who looked shocked and upset, and Ruby, who instead, was proudly looking around. It took Emily a moment to sort all the things in her brain. 

Lilith, dead.

Sam, alive.

Dean, alive.

Ruby, alive.

Everything was alright, but one. 

Emily used her powers to slam Ruby into a column. 

“Wrong.” Said Emily, walking towards her. “You’re not awesome, you’re fucking dead.” 

Emily, s- Sam’s voice echoed in Emily’s head, but she interrupted him by also slamming his body on a wall. 

“NOT NOW, SAM! I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!” She let go of Sam’s body, who fell on the ground, struggling, before Emily turned towards Ruby again. The demon was giggling. “You think this is funny?” 

“Hilarious.” She smirked. “You made my life so difficult, never keeping that trap shut, but in the end, I won.” She laughed. “I won, demon barbie.” 

Emily heard the sound of Dean helping Sam up behind her. Trying not to roll her eyes at it, she kept talking. “Yeah?”

“Sure.” Ruby smiled, proud. “I knew I could not get through to you or Dean, but you know who can? Sam. Oh, he talked you right into trusting me!” 

“You poisoned him.” Emily tightened her force, making Ruby wimper. “You turned him into a junkie.” She extracted the demon-killing knife from her jacket. “Last time, we let you walk, Ruby, but this time-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ruby kept her smile. “It’s too late. He’s coming.” She nodded towards Lilith’s blood. It was slowly, but weirdly deliberately, moving into a circle. 

“Oh Ruby.” Exhaled Emily. “I’ve been waiting for the moment I get to waste you since you first showed up.” She stabbed Ruby in her chest. The demon tried to scream, but no voice came out. “I don’t care if I’m too late.” Concluded Emily, extracting the knife. She let the body fall on the floor, lifeless, and took a step back. “Now.” She put the knife away and turned towards Sam, who was standing not too far away. He tried to speak, but Emily didn’t let him. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU, UH?!” She walked towards him. “YOU ARE A F-” Dean got a hold of her arms and stopped her. As she was about to cuss him as well, he pointed to Lilith’s blood. 

“There’s no time. Let’s get out of here.” Emily turned to where Dean was pointing. Then, she looked for Ramiel, but he was nowhere to be found. The blood had completed the circle and was converging towards the middle, making another smaller circle. The moment the second circle was complete, light started to emanate from the middle of it, flooding the room. 

That was it. Lucifer was rising. 

“Come on!” Pleaded Dean, grabbing her by one side of her jacket and shoving her towards the door. Emily looked at him, then she looked at Sam. As light almost blinded her, she started running towards the door alongside Dean, but the light soon became too bright and she was overwhelmed by white.

[derelictdumbass]

Thinking about how the Seeds relationships with Dean could be taken as an act of defiance against how they were raised and a way for them to break out of that restraint and accept the trauma they went through and move forward from it.

[mishasminions]

Here’s why the Supernatural Series Finale Sucked

(AND IT REALLY ISN’T JUST BECAUSE CAS/MISHA WASN’T IN IT)

First of all, I’d like to state, that this perspective is coming from someone who has watched, invested in, and dissected this show for 15 years. I’ve tried to rationalize and justify every single decision each of the main characters made throughout the years, and I’ve always tried to make sense of each of their story arcs from a “bigger picture” standpoint as each season progressed.

Anyway, before I can properly explain why the finale sucked, let me quickly take you through 15 seasons by segregating them into 3 eras, because you can’t really comprehend what Supernatural is about and what it’s become without going through how it tried to expand its universe.

SEASONS 1-5: THE KRIPKE ERA

Now, we all know that Kripke was always set in wrapping up Sam and Dean’s story in 5 seasons, and he did just that.

So, in this era, Supernatural is about two brothers who set out on a journey to fulfill “the family business”. They hunt mythical monsters that terrorize the world, while battling the monsters within themselves. Their ultimate “big bad” is an apocalypse.

Towards the end of this era, we find out that Sam and Dean are actually a parallel to Biblical characters who are brothers turned rivals. And that Sam and Dean’s destiny is to go up against each other.

However, as a dynamic, they have always been about making their own choices, choosing free will, and having a brotherly bond that can power through against any obstacle at any given day.

So, this era is neatly wrapped up with its finale. The characters grow, and get justified endings.

Dean, a man who thinks of himself as two things: 1. Sam’s older brother and protector; and 2. Daddy’s blunt little instrument.

He’s spent his whole life believing that that was his only purpose, and he knew that the only ending he’ll get would either be a bloody death fulfilling his duty to the family business; or laying his life on the line to save his brother.

Dean gets the ending he thought was never possible for him, something he thought he could never deserve. After years of living and dying for his family, he gets a shot at having an apple pie life--to settle down with a nice girl, raise a kid in a house with a white picket fence. With Sam gone, Dean’s responsibility now is to himself.

Sam, on the other hand, never wanted any part of it, because he wasn’t groomed the way Dean was, and because thanks to Dean, Sam wasn’t traumatized or forced into growing up too quickly the way Dean was.

So Sam aspires for a normal life, and works the cases with Dean so he can maybe get some semblance of it, when everything they set out to kill are laid to rest.

Ultimately, Sam performs a selfless act for his brother, who has given up everything for him, and for their cause--to save the world.

The journey is this: Dean sacrifices everything to save Sam, and Sam sacrifices himself so Dean could live.

Apart from being Dean’s “savior” and guardian angel, Castiel’s role in this era is to serve as a mirror to Dean’s journey. Castiel goes from being heaven’s foot soldier, following “God’s orders”; to an angel who learns to choose and feel for the first time in his existence.

After they realize that they’re both daddy’s blunt instruments, Dean starts choosing his own path for himself, and convinces Castiel to join him. Castiel stops following heaven, and starts following Dean.

In the end, with his newfound understanding of the world thanks to Dean, Castiel goes back to heaven to reform it.

We’ve resolved the biblical arc, and the character journeys.

SEASONS 6-10: THE SPIN-OFF ERA

So this is where the show realizes how vast its universe can be, so it tries to expand it by tapping into uncharted lands and experimenting with it.

They take on heaven, reform hell, explore purgatory, have the angels fall, turn Dean into a demon, and kill Death.

Dean and Sam recognize their codependency, and try to rise above it.

They go back and forth between which brother will risk it all for the greater good every other season.

Dean and Cas strengthen their relationship by recognizing the impact they have on each other’s lives.

Cas structures his life and decisions around Dean (Seasons 6-7), and Dean learns to trust and fight for Cas (Seasons 8-9).

Sam and Cas bond (mostly over Dean) because of their shared rationales in decision-making.

Dean, Sam, and even Cas also forge relationships with the people they work with. The concept of “found family” is introduced here.

This era was heavy on the plot while establishing, reinforcing, and solidifying relationships and dynamics.

At this point, it wasn’t just about the brothers anymore.

If Supernatural had ended in Season 10, the logical finale would’ve been Team Free Will, along with the family that they’ve found, going up against the latest big bad (Death or whoever). Maybe they lose them along the way, maybe they all make it out alive, or maybe they go down swinging, but at least the show recognizes and supports the message they keep saying, “Family don’t end with blood”

SEASONS 11-15: THE REWRITE ERA

This is where the show runs out of ideas and decides to invalidate the seasons that came before it.

From bringing Mary back (basically rendering their whole journey pointless because they’ve literally started hunting because of her death), to changing the stipulations in being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels (another character struggle rendered useless), to God himself breaking the fourth wall by saying that the Winchesters get away with everything because “they’re the main characters in his story and everything they’ve been through was just part of a badly written narrative”.

But what we’re getting from this era is that Sam and Dean, along with Cas (who has also deviated from the story) ARE trying to escape a badly written narrative.

That’s the “big bad” in this era. The writer.

At this point, the characters have picked up so many strays (including those from alternate universes), and have settled into their roles in their “found family”. Dean, Sam, and Cas all become surrogate dads and uncles.

They’ve also graduated from the whole “we’re on different sides” and “going behind each other’s backs” drama. And they just want the whole family together.

They’ve all resigned themselves to the cause, but they’re also tired. Dean allows himself to contemplate about wanting more out of life or at least getting a vacation. Sam, on the other hand, realizes his capabilities as an effective leader. Castiel learns to love another being that isn’t Dean (spoiler: it’s Jack).

However, they also realize that they’ve just been puppets on a string all this time.

So what they want now, is to write their own story, and make their own choices knowing that God/the writer isn’t the one fueling their narrative.

So here’s why the finale sucks:

Andrew Dabb, the current showrunner, said that there would be two finales.

15x19 - The finale to wrap up Season 15, and 15x20 - The finale to wrap up the series by “resolving the characters’ journey”

In 15x19 the boys find a way to de-power God/the writer. For the first time in their whole lives, they are free from the story. Their lives are completely theirs now. They can make their own decisions. There are no more “big bads” to fight

And here’s what happens in 15x20:

Immediately after being freed from their story arc, Dean and Sam go back to hunting the monster of the week.

Dean eats pie, gets nailed (literally), makes a 10-minute speech to Sam because he knows he’s dying, then he goes to heaven.

Dean is greeted by Bobby, his surrogate Dad who he hasn’t seen (fully alive) since Season 7. Bobby’s expository dialogue comprises of him explaining that he got out of heaven’s jail, that John and Mary are next door, and that Jack and Cas fixed the dynamics of heaven off-screen.

The first thing Dean decides to do is go for a long drive in his Impala (as if he hasn’t done enough of that already).

Meanwhile, Sam decides to stop hunting after Dean dies, he gets the apple pie life he hadn’t wanted since Season 8 (while Dean was in Purgatory), and names his kid “Dean” for effect. He grows old and dies.

Dean drove around in heaven for so long that Sam catches up to him.

They hug. The end.

Great, right?

After 15 years of struggling to battle their own respective destinies, going up against big bads and even bigger bads, then finally being able to take charge of their own stories, Dean and Sam regress to hunting the monster of the week, and get killed off by a nail and old age. Okay.

Sam gets to retire and have a family, sure, but they still focus on him and the kid he named after his dead brother. Still just “Sam and Dean” through and through. Nothing to do with found family. Just lineage. Just blood. And it ends there.

See, the problem here is that this ending would’ve been passable in The Kripke Era. But we’re 10 years down the road since, and while Sam and Dean are the original main characters, the show isn’t just about them and their codependent relationship anymore.

So you see, even if you take out the whole “Castiel deserves to be in the finale because he’s also a main character with an unfinished story arc” argument, the finale still does no justice to the series it tried to “wrap up”.

But anyway, now I’ll make the case for the problem with Castiel not being in the finale:

In 15x18, we get a 5-minute rushed confession from Castiel to Dean. The context of which are as follows:

1. Earlier in the episode, Dean had wounded Death with her scythe. We later find out that this wound is fatal.

2. Their friends start to “blip out” in a Thanos-like snap, and Dean thinks that Death is causing it, so Dean seeks her out, and Cas goes with him.

3. Dean and Cas anger Death, apparently for no reason because she didn’t even do the thing they thought she did. She chases them to try to kill them

4. Dean and Cas lock themselves in a room. Dean starts a pity party.

5. As Dean goes through hating himself out loud, Cas decides to inform Dean of the deal he made with The Empty. He then proceeds to explain the stipulation of the deal (that he would get taken once he experiences a moment of true happiness), then discusses his newfound happiness philosophy. Dean is getting whiplash.

6. Cas goes on to imply that the one thing that he wanted that he knew he couldn’t have is Dean Winchester reciprocating his romantic feelings for him. (Don’t even try to fight me on this because Cas already has Dean’s platonic love, and he knows that Dean thinks of him as a brother, so if he really meant this in a “familial” way, then why would he think that he couldn’t have the thing that would make him happy?) So Cas’ realization is that telling Dean about his feelings is enough to make him happy.

7. Cas tells Dean all the reasons why he loves him (thereby combating Dean’s self-deprecation tirade), and all the reasons why he’s worthy of his love. Meanwhile, Dean is still winded from the fact that Cas is about to sacrifice himself for him again.

8. Dean never gets to process anything, because Cas is shoving him out of the way, as he and Death (who busts through the door) get taken by The Empty.

After this episode, Dean never speaks of it. Misha Collins supposes that Dean doesn’t reciprocate. Jensen Ackles says that Dean didn’t really get to process it because it was too much, too fast, and that Dean, still dense as ever, thinks that Cas, a celestial being, doesn’t interpret human feelings the same way.

So what was the point of this confession?

Politics and sensitivities of a 2005 network television aside, what does this do for the story?

Cas proclaims his romantic feelings to Dean, but Dean never acknowledges it, doesn’t even give it a passing thought afterwards. So Cas’ big declaration goes unheard.

Cas cashes in on his Empty deal to kill Death (who was dying anyway), in order to save Dean who dies two episodes after.

Dean makes no effort to save Cas (despite being really broken up about his previous deaths, or even spending a whole year in Purgatory looking for him), even after they’ve beaten God, not even asking Jack (who has all the power in the universe) to bring him back (when Jack has already done it before, with less mojo).

Dean moves on to fight the monster of the week. Somewhere off-screen, Jack rescues Cas from The Empty, but Cas uncharacteristically doesn’t even bother to go to Dean? (Every single time he comes back, Dean’s always the first person he goes to)

And Cas, who apparently helped craft and reform the new heaven, isn’t the one who welcomes Dean and explains the new dynamics of it?

Sure, Jan.

Supernatural, you’ve created a finale that only your casual viewers and people who dipped out after Season 5 can appreciate.

Just goes to show how much you actually valued the people who actually invested in your story and characters, and consistently helped keep your show on the air.

[RT this on Twitter]

[roonyxx]

The Winchester's Pet: Part 5

Summary: Dean starts dating Abigail, a beautiful, tall, blonde woman who knows about hunting. But what happens when you tell Dean you feel like he is in danger, will he believe you?

Warnings: broken reader, mentions of trauma, angst, fluff, language,

Pairing: eventual Dean x reader

Wordcount: 1812

A/N:  This series will exist out of five parts and it will be a little dark! I will warn each chapter individualy. In one chapter there will be an attemped rape and torture (not graphic). So please heed the warnings before reading.

A/N 2: The text divider is from the very talented @talesmaniac89​​

The Winchester’s Pet Masterlist​​

My Masterlist

A few more weeks have passed and you’re finally starting to feel more like yourself. You even joined a few hunts with the boys!

Sam and Dean have been very supportive of you and never pushed you too far, which you were very thankful for.

You just returned from the hunt and you’re ready for some down wind time.

“Dean?” you ask as you pass him in the hall.

“Yes?”

“Do you maybe wanna watch a movie tonight with me?” 

You have been missing your best friend a lot, and you think you’re ready to start fresh with Dean. You can see how hard he is trying to redeem himself.

“Really?” a smile grows on his beautiful face.

You can’t help but smile back, “yes really, Dean”

He half jumps at you to wrap you up in a big embrace, “I missed you so much” he whispers against your hair.

You’re a little shocked at the sudden embrace but soon enough you melt in his arms. Holding him close.

“I really missed you too, De” you say honestly.

After taking some snacks and moving to the cave, you decided on watching Hotel Transylvania together.

“You’re starting to look like you again” Dean suddenly says.

You turn to look at him and see he’s watching you from across the couch with a soft emotional smile. It feels so good to be closer to him again, you missed being around him, being able to smell him, to see him smile, to touch him.

“I do?” you wonder “I am starting to feel better”

“Yes, you’re glowing again. You smile more, you’re dressing more like you again. It’s good to see you heal, Y/n” he says, his hands clasping uncomfortably in his lap.

“I… I can’t ever forgive myself for what I did to you Y/n…” he breathes out “You went through Hell because of me, because I was blind to see what was right under my nose.”

“Dean… I know you didn’t do it to hurt me. You’re a victim of it too. The girl you loved betrayed you” you scoot closer to him to take his hand and give him a reassuring squeeze.

He looks up at you “I never loved her” he says.

You frown at him, “You didn’t? But you let her in the bunker and… I don’t know it really looked like you did”

“I know how it looks. But I didn’t, I was in love with the idea of love and she had some sort of hold over me” he rubs his face “I’m thinking maybe it was some sort of spell, it clouded my judgement. I couldn’t think straight and said yes to anything she wanted”

“Dean… why did you never tell me. I had no idea” you’re looking at the torn hunter.

“It doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t change what I did, what happened to you” he breathes out “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m a horrible person”

“It would have helped me to forgive you sooner” you say as you cup his cheek to make him look at you.

He pulls away from your grasp. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness” his voice breaks under his heavy heart and a lone tear rolls down his freckled cheek.

“You do, Dean. I choose to not go to Jody. I chose to go after her. You have no control over what happened”

“If I didn’t kick you out, you would have never gotten hurt” he looks at you with his red watery eyes.

“I’m sure Abigail would have found a way to get rid of me somehow… you probably saved me by sending me away”

“Or you could have saved everyone and not gotten hurt” he rubs his face.

“Dean, don’t break your head over the what if’s. We’re both here and safe. That’s what matters. I have forgiven you. Now it’s your turn to do the same” you give him a small smile “and like you helped me. I will help you, okay?”

He gives you a small nod with smile and wraps his arms around you for a tight hug. You let him go to move from his lap back on the couch but he stops you.

“Stay please?” he asks in this little boy’s voice that makes your heart crack.

“Of course, Deanie” you nod and snuggle closer.

It’s been a while since you felt this content. In his arms, surrounded by his smell. His hands stroking over your back.

“Y/n” he starts “Did he…” his voice breaks under the weight of his question “Did he touch you?”

You look up at his beautiful freckled face and see more tears rolling down his cheeks. You reach up to wipe them away.

“No Dean. I killed him before he had the chance. He didn’t”

He visibly relaxed and let a breath escape from his lips, “Oh thank God. I was so worried he did”

“He tortured, starved, tormented and broke me. Not only physically but mentally as well. Every day I just wished he would end it” you stop to take a breather before you went on “it was…” you cling tighter to his shirt and when you opened your mouth, Dean fills in your sentence for you.

“Hell” he says.

You look up and nod at him. Dean was probably the only person who understands what you went through.

“If you ever need to talk about it. I’m here sweetheart. Even at night when you have nightmares, just come wake me up. Okay?” he cups your cheek and looks deep into your eyes.

Without thinking twice you lean up and press your lips to his. The intimacy of this moment and the proximity of your faces is what draws you to his lips and you act without thinking. You feel him tense up under your touch and it snaps you from your haze. You cover your mouth with your hand as if you had just burned him.

“D-Dean… I-I’m so so-“ your sentence is cut short by Dean taking away your hand and gently - yet urgently - pressing his lips to yours. He holds your face in his big hand as his lips dance over yours. His other arm is wrapped tightly around your waist pulling you flush against him.

When the need for air becomes too much, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead on yours. He keeps his eyes closed.

“Dean…” you whisper low and wait for his eyes to open before you continue “w-what was that?”

“I…” he licks his lips and his eyes dart down to yours and back up your eyes “I’m n-not sure”

You sigh and push a little on his chest to create some distance but he keeps you close.

“No Y/n please” his green orbs look into yours “I want this, I want you” he tells you.

“Want me?” these are the words you have dreamed of hearing from him. But it creates a deep fear in your soul, “Want and love is not the same Dean. I can’t do this with you, knowing you’re not all the way in”

“I want to be all the way in. The last few weeks without you, it has been torture. I want you close all the time. I missed things I never knew I wanted” he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“What kind of things?”

“Your smile, your smell, the way your fingers run through my hair when we watch a movie, the way you keep stealing my flannels and the way you look in them” his eyes are searching yours, “I… I fell in love with you a long time ago but was too afraid to admit it, even to myself”

You’re looking at him in shock. Dean loves you, Dean Winchester just told you he fell in love with you…

“W-where is this coming from, Dean how do you even know it’s love and not just because you missed our friendship. You have to know, you can’t say this and expect me to give you my heart… I won’t survive another heartbreak…” your eyes swell with tears. This is all so overwhelming. Just months ago he threw you out for a stranger, but was that even his choice if Abigail had him under her thumb?

“I know… I’m an idiot for not saying anything sooner, but you deserve so much better. Someone who didn’t put you through Hell. I know it’s love, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe without you Y/n.”

You cover your face with your hands, not being able to look into his pleading green eyes. It’s all too much to handle.

“I can’t just jump in this with you Dean… I can’t risk breaking my heart. You have to know that if you do love me. It has to be forever, because the day you realize I’m not the one, is the day I die”

He gently takes your hands away from your face to hold it in his own. Pressing his forehead against yours.

“You are the one, Y/n. You’re my forever”

Another sob breaks through your body. You’re not sure if this is all a cruel dream, you close your eyes and wait for the inevitably moment when you wake up again in that cold basement.

But it doesn’t come, you can feel his hands on your skin, his breath over your lips, his heart beating under your touch.

It’s real.

You open your eyes and look at him, at the man of your dreams, the love of your life. You can see the love in his eyes and realize that he’s serious. That he wants to share his life with you.

“You have to give me time Dean. I can’t just jump into a relationship with you. I am still healing from everything that happened and I’m not ready yet to give you what you need…” you explain to him. You know Dean is a loving man with a fiery passion deep inside, he has needs and is not shy about it. You have seen the many times he goes out to find some fun for the night. You’re not ready to give him that, not yet at least.

“I can wait, I will wait for you as long as you need me to, baby. I want this, I want us, I want you. Please give me a chance to give you the love you deserve” he’s begging you to open your heart for him.

You never could say no to him so you nod and you place your heart in his big sturdy hands and hope he takes care of it.

“I-I love you Dean. Please don’t hurt me” you hide your face in his neck.

“I love you too, Y/n. I won’t ever hurt you again, I promise”

And you believe him.

The End

[astermacguffin]

What if the Mark of Cain manifests differently when it's imprisoning God and not the Darkness? If the Darkness makes the Mark bearer go insane with unbridled want for destruction, then what does sealing God make you do?

An obsessive desire for creation? Creation to the point of corruption? (Think of the Shimmer from the film Annihilation. Continuous reproduction to the point of begetting alien, cancer-like entities. A refracted, distorted notion of creation.)

Okay, so canon divergence from The Trap. They successfully seal away Chuck, then Castiel bears the Mark. (Jack won't be back until later episodes, so he's not here yet.)

At first, they think he's fine. Cas says he's not feeling any bloodlust just yet. (He does feel a certain itch under his skin. Not a desire to murder, but a desire to do...something. He doesn't tell this to anyone.)

His grace is getting stronger, almost archangel-like (if not more). It's incredibly helpful for hunts, and Cas is happy to feel his wings healthy again after a long time. Sam is happy for him, but Dean is suspicious of things (especially since he's a previous Mark bearer).

After a while, Cas starts feeling...burdened, almost bloated by grace. (After all, he does have access to an infinite supply of it.) He needs to have an outlet for it.

Cas tells them so and Sam suggests healing people. Dean gives the green light on the condition that he remains invisible and he doesn't go Godstiel on them again.

It's a great outlet, and for the first few weeks they start feeling normal again. But unfortunately, healing stops being enough to relieve Cas of his excess grace anymore. The mass healings start to pile up all across the globe and it catches everyone's attention. Some think it's a blessed miracle, some think it's a sign of the end times. They make him slow down on the healings after that.

Without an outlet, however, Cas starts feeling antsy and pained. They brainstorm on possible alternatives. Cas suggests going to Heaven and saving it from collapse by healing his brethren's wings and creating more angels out of consenting souls in Heaven.

He explains Heaven's endangered and dwindling numbers. Sam agrees that it would hit two birds in one stone: relieve Cas from excess grace and prevent the extinction of angels. Dean doesn't like the idea of more winged dicks so he shoots down the idea. Eileen says that since Cas is the one in pain, he should be the one to decide.

Ultimately, Cas defers to Dean's judgment (as always). Sam protests, arguing that he can't just shoulder that pain. Cas replies: "I've suffered worse, Sam."

Cas doesn't complain about the pain for about a week, so for a while, everyone believes him when he said he can shoulder the pain. One day, Dean finds him outside the bunker, groaning in pain as he bleeds himself out, his grace pouring into the ground and sprouting plants. Dean sees this and is finally convinced to allow Cas to make more angels.

What follows then is a series of escalating events:

While Sam and Eileen are practicing their witchcraft for spell they need in a hunt, Cas suggests to enhance Sam's physical and magical abilities using his grace. "It will make the process faster and safer," he reasons. He agrees, but Dean eyes this suspiciously.

During one of their hunts, they encounter a young and freshly-turned vampire. The boy begs them not to kill him, and Cas gives him a proposal. "Promise not to feed on humans ever again and I shall cure you of your hungers and your pains. Pledge your allegiance to me and you shall never be afraid of yourself ever again." The boy agrees, and before Dean could even protest, Cas slices his palm and feeds the vampire his grace.

They argue about the grace-feeding in the Impala. Dean notices Sam's pointed lack of complaints and figures it out. "You're in on this, aren't you? How long has Cas been doing this? He's going Michael behind our backs and you're letting him?"

Sam argues that it's different because Cas isn't making super monsters; he's making them less "monstrous" (whatever that means). Sam's obsession with his own "purity" is key to understanding him here.

One time, Dean catches Cas in his "garden" ("forest" seems more apt with how lush the greens already are) creating butterflies and bees out of thin air using his grace alone.

Reports of the miraculously healed people suddenly gaining new abilities like increased strength, heightened senses, and prophecy start popping up. Some are experiencing phantom limbs, talking about their sprouting "wings."

Sam is becoming addicted to Cas' grace to the point that he willingly lets himself be hurt in hunts just so Cas can cure him. Dean confronts him about this, but Sam just argues that he's "never felt this pure before." Eileenn shares the same concern as Dean.

Hunts are becoming less frequent the more monsters are being "cleansed" by Cas. The world is becoming disconcertingly quiet.

Cas' "garden" is starting to emit this strange aura. The plants and creatures growing inside it are starting to look more...alien.

One of the original angels goes to Dean and tells him of Heaven's affairs. The Host is stable again, but the angels he created are...not exactly angels. They're graced up and they sustain Heaven, but their true forms are "horrifying and incomprehensible, even to an angel." The angel adds that more than 60% of Earth's creatures have already been touched by Cas' grace.

The final nail in the coffin is when Dean catches Cas in the garden fiddling with his angel blade. It's emitting a strange glow, vibrating a subtle hum and looking as if it's liquid, flowing and distorting here and there.

Dean asks him what he's holding. "Oh, this?" Cas responds. "This is the Last Blade. Last, not in terms of time but in concept, for no other blade shall ever compare to it. The spark of creation. Fiat lux."

Dean's heart sinks. Of course. The First and the Last, Alpha and Omega. "Cas...the Mark, I think i-it's scrambling your brain, man."

"I know," he replies, eyes wet and apologetic. It's a small moment of lucidity amidst weeks and months of...whatever that was.

"Okay, okay, so you're still you, that's... that's good. Okay." Dean doesn't know how to approach this. Give him a fight and he'll know what to do, but this? Watching his best friend, the love of his life, be distorted into something incomprehensible? Yeah, this is totally beyond him.

"You know, I used to hate Chuck," Cas says. "How could the Father of All Creation be this angry, petulant child? But," he continues, "knowing what I know now, it's either regressing into a petty child or being reduced to insanity."

"Cas...what are you talking about, man?"

"No mind should bear this burden, Dean. No matter how infinite they are," he says, voice trembling in exhaustion.

(more below the cut)

He continues. "The awareness of everything is the awareness of nothing at all. Imagine perceiving every possible piece of information about the world all at once. Seeing light in all its forms all at once: ultraviolet, infrared, etc. Sensing all the neutrinos zip by, sensing gravitational waves, sensing the slighest bit of seismic activity."

Dean doesn't know how to respond, so he lets him go on.

"Knowledge can only ever be a slice of the Totality of Truth. Truth is absolute chaos, and Knowledge is the partial ordering of this chaos. One can sanely approach Truth only through organized paritions of Totality. Why do you think Chuck is so obsessed with stories? Stories are linear and finite; they're sensible snippets of the endless sea of possible worlds."

"So, what? Are you trying to—"

"I'm not trying to justify Chuck's actions, Dean," he interrupts. "I just want to contextualize them. Chuck's simplistic and repetitive narratives are what they are: manifestations of a chaotic Totality, gone insane trying to understand itself. Looking for simple things to hold on to."

Cas takes a deep breath. He speaks with a shaky voice. "I'm barely holding myself together, Dean. I can feel the universe beneath my skin."

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, but he does it anyway. "What are you holding on to?"

Cas smiles at that. "You."

They stare at each other for a while, frozen where they stand. Cas, with unrestrained affection in his face. Dean, struck by shock and indecision. It's Cas who first breaks the silence.

"I think we both know what needs to be done, while I'm still lucid enough." Cas slices his palm and lets his blood drip down the soil. He then thrusts the Last Blade into the ground, lifting it when the soil glows.

Dean stared in awe as the ground erupts and a familiar shape rises from the hollow. "Is that.."

"The Ma'Lak box, yes. I also enhanced it with the Blade to be able to house things as powerful as me."

"Cas, wait, maybe we can think of another way to—"

"Dean," he says, calmly. "You know there's no other way. I wouldn't ask this of you if there was."

In any other scenario, Dean would've kept arguing, but even he knows that they're running out of time. Sam's grace addiction is getting worse and all the creatures touched by Cas' grace are slowly mutating into eldritch horrors. Dean offers a shaky nod. "Okay."

Tension visibly releases from Cas' body. "Thank you, Dean." He opens the box and enters it with ease. "When you lock this, bury me with the garden's graced soil. Once I'm under, my influence over the world should dampen."

Dean gives a wordless nod. For a while, they just stared at each other, Cas lying down and Dean trying to memorize every inch of his face while he can.

Cas presses his hand into Dean's left shoulder where his mark used to dwell. "My untainted grace," he whisper gently. "Some of it is still inside you. That's probably why you're not as affected by me."

Dean wants to say, I'll always be affected by you, but he holds himself back.

He takes his hand back, a bloody handprint now on Dean's jacket. "I love you, Dean," he says, breathless.

"Cas..."

"I probably would've built up to that if we had more time but," he makes a surprised laugh, "I am, as you would say, already 'losing my marbles', so."

The air quotes would've been funny and endearing in any other scenario, but it just makes Dean's vision blur up with tears.

"Thank you for everything, Dean. I know we've done nothing but repeatedly hurt each other these past few years, but I don't want to spend a deathless eternity with that as my memory of you. I forgive you, even for the things you haven't forgiven yourself for yet. And I'm sorry for everything, especially for ending things like this."

He should probably wipe away his tears to clear his vision, but Dean can do nothing but stare at Cas in awe, in fear, in grief, in reverence. They're both fully crying now.

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Wait, Cas."

Cas looks at him, waiting.

"Can you...can you say it again?"

He doesn't need to clarify what 'it' means. They both know.

With one last mournful smile, Cas says: "I love you, Dean."

And with that, Dean finally gathers all the strength he needs to shut the lid and lock the box. He stares at it for a while, unblinking. He forgot to ask, Can you hear my prayers down there? But it's too late now to ask.

The box automatically lowers itself into the hole it arose from. Now all that's left to do is to cover it again with soil.

Dean doesn't bother with a shovel. He gently buries the box with his hands deep in the soil, some of it getting trapped under his nails. He continues the mindless task, whispering a tireless series of I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I hope you're okay I'm sorry, over and over between his quiet sobs. Cas is quiet inside the box. No screaming or crying. Dean doesn't know if that's better or worse.

When the final clump of soil is pressed into the mound, he suddenly feels it: a visceral shift that echoes throughout the world. The alien glimmer of the garden dims, and the world corrects its axis. Dean screams his agony into the air.

That's how Sam finds him: sprawled over a mound of soil, crying his heart out. Dean doesn't need to say anything: he knows what happened. He pulls his brother off the ground and brings him inside the bunker.

For the first two weeks, Dean cycles through drinking and passing out in various places in the bunker. If he's not wearing the jacket, he's holding it with close to him. Sam gives him a considerable space to grieve while he monitors the world grace problem with Eileen. The grace mutations have significantly dropped since then and everyone's going back to normal.

Unfortunately, that means monsters are getting hungry again. Sam doesn't want to leave his brother alone after going nonverbal with grief and dysfunctional due to alcohol. Eileen assures him that she can handle hunts on their own and that the hunter network that they're building will lessen the workload.

Sam's attempts to sober Dean up finally work, mostly due to the latter having very little strength to protest. Dean remains sober an entire day for the first time in weeks, and all he can think about is: I haven't prayed to Cas in a while. The longing might have reached him, but never a coherent prayer.

The first time he goes out of the bunker in a while, he heads straight to Cas' garden. Sam's glad that he's finally going out because "the sun is good for you" or something, but he's really only here for Cas. He kneels in front of the burial mound (where a patch of an unknown species of flowers is already growing).

The first prayer he says to him in a while is: I love you, Cas. I should've said it while you were still here. Not saying it out loud and just strongly thinking about the words somehow bolsters him to get the words through.

He's crying again, and he knows he's losing coherency. In his mind, he's explaining about his hangups and his regrets and his continuous denial of his own joy, but one constant remains: he's beaming all his love and affection into this prayer.

He's halfway through explaining all the traits that he finds endearing in Cas when suddenly, he feels it like a snap. If the glimmer dimmed when he buried Cas, now it's as if it was never there in the first place. With an unsettling amount of certainty, Dean just knows that Cas is gone. For real, this time.

"C-cas...?" It's the first thing he's said in a while and it sounds rough in his long unused voice.

"CAS! CAS!!! " He's now screaming, ripping away the flowerbed with his bare hands and scratching the soil away. Tears are obstructing his vision, but he has no time to wipe them away. He needs to make sure that is really gone. His hands are bleeding and he doesn't give a damn.

Eventually, Sam comes running towards him. "Dean! Dean, stop!"

He tries to hold his brother back, but Dean just keeps on clawing away soil. "Sammy, Sammy he's gone, he's not there anymore, Sammy I have to see, please, let me see Cas again, I need—" he breaks into sobs again, and like a puppet with its strings cut off, he slumps into Sam.

"Dean, it's okay, it's okay..." he says softly to his shaking brother.

Eventually, when Dean calms down, he looks at the carnage he's done and starts sobbing again. The flowers, his last evidence of Cas being here, are all destroyed. Now Cas truly is gone.

. . .

When Cas first heard Dean's confession prayer, he was overcome with joy. When he realized what that means, however, his stomach suddenly sinks.

He hears before he sees the Empty arrive, slithering like black goo.

"Wow, were you excited enough for eternal slumber that you wanted a preview?" The Shadow teases in Meg's voice.

At first, he was dreading the Empty, but now that he thinks of it, it's actually the perfect prison for him: a vast, endless nothingness for him to fill with his creations.

And if Jack wasn't in Heaven, that only means that he's in the Empty, and he can't wait to see his son again. Even when blinded by the madness of the universe, he can never forget the joy of being a father.

"Yes," he replies, "I'm actually glad you're here now."

. . .

Somewhere around the globe, Billie drops Jack back.

"Don't worry, kid. You'l reunite with your father very soon."

(to be continued)

[tootiredmotel]

a different lover is not a sin

or: 5 times Dean didn't go to Pride + 1 time he did

Happy @starrynightdeancas gift exchange posting day!!! This one's for the wonderful and talented @andzia267 !!! Sending you all the hugs and good vibes, and I hope you enjoy it! And thank you Sophie for hosting all this, you're a rock star! <3

Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words

CW: homophobia, queer used as a slur, john winchester being an asshole

1 - 1994

Dean was fifteen years old when he found out that being gay was something people could be proud of. It was early in the morning, they'd left their motel about 20 minutes before, and Sammy had fallen asleep in the backseat. The sun was just starting to completely show over the horizon, and they were driving through– or rather, struggling to get out of– Phoenix on their way to a possible poltergeist in Tucson. Every street they tried to take was blocked for the big event, and dozens of people already lined the sidewalks with colorful outfits and signs.

"Fuckin' queers," John grumbled in the seat next to him. "Never should'a thrown that damn brick."

Big banners overhead displayed "Stonewall 25: A Global Celebration of Pride". Dean made a mental note to hit up a library once they got to Tucson to look that up, "Stonewall". In the meantime, he was mesmerized staring out the window. Guys held hands, women kissed, everyone was practically vibrating with excitement. A black man in heels and a wig caught his gaze through the window and waved. Dean started to wave back, but his hand was harshly swatted back down.

"Do not," John said. "Don’t talk to them, don’t even look at ‘em. These people are sick in the head."

Dean focused his gaze on his lap until they were out of the city, and his mind wandered back to the gas station they stopped at the day before. He thought of the guy at the cash register that called him "cutie" and winked at him as he bought a candy bar for Sammy and beers for Dad with his fake ID. By Dad’s logic– which Dean trusted, of course–, that cashier, that queer, must've been sick in the head.

Then Dean remembered how his heart sped up, how his ears got hot, and how for a second he let himself think the cashier was kinda cute too. He realized he must also be sick in the head, and the thought was making him feel actually, physically sick. He felt like throwing up. Dad could never know.

Dean was fifteen years old when he learned that being gay actually wasn't something to be proud of.

---

2 - 2000

Dean was 21 years old when he learned the word “bisexual”. Dad had caught word of a ghoul case in lower Manhattan and sent Dean to take care of it. It was starting to get too hot and the streets were too crowded, but Dean was mostly glad to get a break from the constant fighting between Dad and Sammy.

Except it was June, and every time he turned a corner, there they were. The Pride parade flyers.

The second he spotted a rainbow he averted his gaze. He turned another corner and spotted another one. He avoided reading them at all costs. He heard Dad’s voice. Sick. Sick in the head.

For years now Dean had pretended he wasn’t sick. He pretended to not stare at Patrick Swayze too much whenever Dirty Dancing played on TV. He pretended like he didn't imagine what it would be like to kiss a guy, what stubble would feel like against his lips if he ever did.

He liked women. He could stick to women. He could live his whole life like that. And that meant he wasn’t totally sick, right? He wasn’t gay -gay if he liked girls.

But then what the hell was he? Would he even belong at one of these Pride things if he wanted to? He was probably a freak of nature. Even sicker than the rest of the bunch.

Curiosity got the best of him. He spared a glance at one of the flyers as he waited to cross the street.

Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME

“Are you gonna go?” A voice next to him asked. ”It’s next weekend.” He was blond, pale, and a bit shorter than Dean.

“What? No! I don't swing that way,” Dean said, a bit too quickly and with too much bite.

The guy looked him up and down with a frown. “Geez, alright. Just askin’.”

He started to walk away, and Dean spoke up before he could stop himself.

“Hey man, wait.”

The guy stopped walking.

“Sorry, can I ask you something? Assuming you... know about this stuff?”

He seemed exasperated, but he turned anyway, willing to hear Dean out. Dean licked his lips, rubbed at the back of his neck, swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, asking a stranger on the street about something so personal. At least the chances of meeting this person ever again were close to none.

“What’s bisexual?”

The guy’s features softened a bit. He seemed to understand something about Dean that so far Dean refused to acknowledge.

“It means you’re into more than one gender. And yes, you can do that,” the guy said. He flashed Dean a tight smile and then disappeared into the crowd.

Dean felt his hands go numb and balled them into fists, shoving them in his pockets. He took a deep breath through his nose. The guy said you. You are. You can.

The guy didn’t know what he was talking about. He knew nothing about Dean. He was wrong.

Or maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t be.

Dean couldn’t be… that.

Dean was 21 years old when he decided he wasn’t bisexual. He wasn’t anything. He was also 21 when he solved a case in record time (two days), just so he could book it out of New York before the next weekend arrived.

---

3 - 2004

By the time he was 25 years old, Dean knew he was bi. He hated it, he never spoke about it, and he ignored it as much as he could, but he was aware of it. And he knew he was bi because, at 25 years old, he’d already gone through two serious breakups, and they both equally sucked.

The first was Lee. He hunted with Dean and John for about a year, the second half of which Dean and Lee spent sneaking around and hooking up behind John’s back. It was fun, and hot, and exciting, and some of the best hookups he’d had up until that point in his life were with Lee.

But the thing is that it wasn’t just hooking up. They were close, and Dean liked him. A lot. They kissed for the first time after a particularly scary werewolf hunt in which Dean almost died, but John was more preoccupied with the mostly-unharmed victim than his own son. Dean and Lee rode in the backseat, bruised, bloody, and quiet. When John went to walk the victim up to her apartment, Lee reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s back, asking him if he was okay. Dean fell into Lee’s arms, and they kissed as they pulled away from the embrace, soft and comforting. It was Dean’s first kiss with a guy.

Lee was a lot of firsts for Dean over the next few months. But then John almost caught them once, drunk and making out in the Impala.

And then that case in Arizona went wrong, and Lee just couldn’t take it anymore. He packed up, swore off hunting, hugged Dean goodbye, and left him in the dust.

Dean needed to clear his head after that. He could barely look his dad in the eye after that close call, couldn't let him see the sorrow he was feeling. With every interaction, he imagined how John would yell at him, probably try to beat it out of him, if he noticed all he was feeling over Lee. Or worse, John could ignore him, practically disown him like he did Sam.

So he also packed up and left. Went hunting on his own for a while.

It was on one of those hunts that he met Cassie, and she was yet another handful of firsts for Dean over the course of a few months. She was amazing, and he fell hard and fast, but of course that went up in flames too.

Then again, he should've known better than to be honest. Honesty only ever got him in trouble.

He’d just left her back in Ohio and was working at a bar in Indianapolis for a few weeks to make some cash. He’d eventually meet back up with Dad. He just couldn’t right now. Not with Sam gone to college. Not after getting his heart broken twice over within a year.

He was hyper-aware of the end of June approaching. He knew it was coming, Indy had a pretty big celebration, and he made sure to be working all day that day so he wouldn't have to face it.

That was pointless, though. Toward the end of the day, a big group of about ten or twelve people who were clearly coming from the parade stumbled into the bar. One of them was apparently the owner’s little sister and they went there every year after the celebrations. They were loud, and obnoxious, and looked incredibly happy. Their happiness was contagious, and Dean loved serving them. He chatted them up, got to know them a bit, and heard all about the parade, all while staring down anyone at the bar who dared look their way with even the slightest stink eye.

But watching them that happy and comfortable, seeing not one, but two pairs of guys sloppily leaning against each other and sharing the occasional kiss while none of their friends seemed to bat an eye… something in Dean ached. Deeply.

Dean was 25 years old when he realized that a small part of him kind of, sort of, wanted to be part of this community. He couldn’t though. Not if he wanted to be on good terms with Dad. Not if he aimed to be the man Dad wanted him to be.

He left Indianapolis the next day.

---

4 - 2008

Dean was 29 years old and on his own personal highway to hell when he learned his brother went to a Pride parade before he ever did. They were driving through San José, the streets were lined with ads for Silicon Valley Pride, and Sam just casually decided to mention how fun it was the last time he went.

Thankfully they were at a red light, or else Dean probably would’ve slammed the breaks. He twisted to look at Sam head-on, his arm on the back of the seat.

“You what ?” he gawked.

Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”

“You went to one of these Pride things?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Dean’s brain was just trying and failing to load. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Jessica was in the GSA and some friends invited us. It was awesome.”

“She was in the what?”

“The G. S. A.,” Sam answered slowly. “Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“Oh.” Whatever that is, Dean thought. He kept eyeing the flyers. It was tomorrow.

“Green.”

“What?”

“Light’s green. Green means go.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

He kept driving and turned up the radio. Somebody To Love was playing, and as much as he liked Queen, he had to change the station. He tried to picture his little brother (his straight little brother) wearing rainbow face paint and having the time of his life at this thing. How come Sammy got to go when Dean could barely entertain the idea? Dean was the not-straight one. It wasn’t fair.

He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”

Dean was 29 years old when he died and went to hell without ever having gone to a Pride parade, knowing that his idiot ( straight! ) little brother already had.

---

5 - 2014

Dean was alive again and 35 years old (75, if you count hell) when he was formally invited to a Pride parade for the first time. It was a couple of days after that whole mess with Cas in Lucifer’s crypt, and he called Charlie. He just wanted to hear her voice, needed to know he was still on good terms with at least one of his best friends.

“So anyway,” Charlie said after a while of recounting what she’d been up to. "How single are you right now? My answer is: miserably."

Dean chuckled. Then he thought of Cas, and the smile disappeared. "Yeah, you and me both, sister."

“Would you mind coming with me to this thing next month? Going alone kinda sucks.”

Dean put the phone on speaker and placed it on the library table as he sat down with a beer. “What’s the thing?”

“Pride.”

Dean was glad no one was around to see him almost choke on his drink.

“You good?”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“Pride parade. Don’t have anyone to go with this year.”

“Why uh… Why? Why me?”

She knows.

“I dunno.”

She knows she knows she knows.

“You’re my friend, Dean. Thought maybe you might be interested. But never mind, I guess.”

And while all the alarms in Dean's head were blaring danger danger danger abort, he also hated to hear Charlie so disappointed.

“Hey, no, listen, Charlie, I… I would. Really. You know I support you, wholeheartedly." And that's obviously the only reason I would want to go. "But with Sam doing these trials, and Cas on the run with the angel tablet–”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah.”

And she hung up.

Dean knew, at this point, that there was nothing wrong with being queer. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it sure as hell didn’t mean you were wrong in the head or whatever.

But years of pretending to be a false version of yourself in an effort to please a man who was impossible to please wasn’t exactly an easy habit to break. As much as he wished it didn't, as much as he wished he could just exist, the thought of anyone finding out still made him sick to the stomach.

John’s voice still echoed in his ears. His words still drove Dean’s sense of self-worth and so many of his decisions. He tried to never stare at a good-looking guy for too long. He tried to not get too into it with Benny. He tried to keep his feelings for Cas at bay, tried to keep him at arm's length, tried to keep the fact that he was in love (deeply, stupidly in love) as close to his chest as he could.

Even that night at the crypt choking out the words to get through to Cas, he couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant. I love you, he’d wanted to say, because it was the truth. What came out, however, was I need you. And he did, he needed Cas more than air, but it wasn't quite everything.

It still got his heart split in two.

Was he so far gone over Cas that he couldn’t hide it? Had he been trying so hard and failing just as miserably this whole time? Was his attraction to dudes that obvious? Or did Charlie just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing?

It was probably the last one. He hoped it was.

Cas knew, for sure. Angels knew everything right? They could read minds, feel longing, or whatever. And if none of that ever tipped him off, well, Dean put it all on the line back in that crypt. He told Cas how he felt, told him he needed him, tried putting himself out there, and it got him left. Again. With Dean, it was always leave-or-get-left when it came to love. He was tired of it.

Dean was 35 years old, desperately in love with his best friend, and truly heartbroken for the third time in his life, when his other best friend– an out and proud lesbian– gave him a chance to go to Pride, to break through his shell, to finally embrace himself as he was; but because he was practically living in the closet, he couldn’t seem to find the handle after so many years of purposefully ignoring its existence, and he missed his chance. Besides, what was the point of going to a celebration of love without the love of his life by his side?

---

+1 - 2021

Dean is now 42 years old and the happiest he’s ever been. The love of his life? Cas? Turns out he’s felt the same way all along. They're kind of together now, and slowly but surely they’re working through a decade’s worth of shit.

They’ve been raising a kid together too, along with Sam and Eileen, and that kid is also God. After saving the world and whatnot, Jack decided to bring back some of their friends and family that died over the years: Mary, Kevin, Charlie. Yes, there are two Charlies now, but it’s not as confusing as you’d expect. (One is from another dimension, and the other one is Dean’s little sister. Simple.) Mary’s off hunting most of the time and Kevin’s applying to college.

They’ve got extended family now too, Jody and the girls. OG Charlie is staying with them for now, while she finds her footing. Most of that household is queer. Most of Dean's household is queer as well, actually. Turns out both Jack and Eileen are non-binary, Cas is gay in the broader sense of the word, and Dean…

Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.

Apparently, a lot of people had known for a long time. Sam has known since the siren back in ‘09 (even though Dean stands by the fact that it wasn’t like that, Sammy ), and everyone has slowly picked up on his and Cas’s thing over the years, so there’s that.

He still feels a bit weird about it. About calling Cas his boyfriend, about having the freedom to hold his hand in public, about the fact that they now have goddamn pride flags hung around the bunker. He feels even weirder about the fact that John’s voice in his head is now drowned out by the sounds of his home life, more lively and supportive than he ever expected to have.

He wasn’t expecting any of this, he didn’t think everything would change so fast. But when you spend the better part of your life pushing down such a huge part of you and then finally give yourself an out, a chance to show the people who love you who you really are, everything just... follows.

Love follows. Acceptance follows. Family follows. And he wasn’t really expecting any of it.

He certainly doesn’t expect it when Cas walks into the library after his weekly Thursday evening call with Claire and announces, matter-of-factly and with air quotes, “We’re going to "Pride" this weekend.”

Dean’s stomach drops. It’s the Sioux Falls Pride Parade and Festival, it’s in two days, and they’re leaving tomorrow to spend the night at Jody’s so they can all be there bright and early Saturday morning. Everyone immediately starts bustling about, packing and planning outfits and gathering flags to bring with them.

Dean just goes to his room– his and Cas’s now– to pack a small duffle.

Well, he means to. Instead, he takes out the duffle from the closet, puts it on the bed, and sits next to it for a while. An hour goes by. He thinks back to all those times he had brushes with one of these things and was just never in the right mindset. He’s not even sure he’s in the right mindset now, but he’s going. It’s happening.

“Jack’s all ready to go,” Cas says when he walks in. “We spent about half an hour putting together an outfit for Saturday. He wanted it to be as colorful as possible.”

Dean smiles, but it’s not all there. He looks at the empty duffle next to him.

“Yeah, I might need some help with that myself.”

Cas is in sweats and a hoodie. Yes it’s June, yes it’s hot, but he’s a quasi-angel, and the way he experiences the world Dean will never be able to wrap his head around. He walks over and stands in front of Dean, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face until he’s cupping Dean’s jaw. Dean takes Cas’s hand and leaves a few kisses on the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes as he does.

Cas regards the empty bag and hums quietly, as if in thought, before walking over to their closet. Dean chases his hand, holding onto it until he’s completely out of reach. Cas starts searching, and Dean’s stomach knots more and more with each clang of the hangers. Cas finally pulls out a flannel from its hanger– purple with hints of blue and pink– and tosses it over. Dean can’t believe he didn’t think of it first.

They continue to pack in comfortable silence before changing and getting into bed. Dean doesn’t flop onto his stomach or cuddle into Cas’s side as he usually does; instead, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice snaps him out of it.

Dean turns his head and asks, automatically, “You okay?”

It’s a habit by now, asking each other that question. It’s part of the working-through-a-decade’s-worth-of-shit thing they’re doing. Turns out they share a whole lot of trauma. They share worries and insecurities. They share nightmares sometimes, mostly about the Empty.

“I’m okay,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s heart for him to hold, and Dean can breathe a little easier.

“You nervous about this thing?” Dean asks, interlocking their fingers.

“The parade? No, not really.”

And then, because he's been working on communicating how he's feeling out loud or whatever, Dean looks back up at the ceiling and says, "I am. Kinda."

He feels Cas shifting and propping himself up on his elbow, and then he's in Dean's line of sight. Dean's gaze is drawn to him, like all of him has been since the moment they met, and Dean can't believe he just has this now. He has a boyfriend, and it's Cas, and he's looking down at Dean with stars in his eyes and a comforting smile that actually works because it's Cas.

And then Cas is leaning down and softly pressing their lips together, and that's also something Dean can’t believe he gets to do: kiss Cas good morning and good night and at any moment in between, kiss him I'm sorry, kiss him we're going to be okay, kiss him I love you.

"I love you too, Dean," Cas says once they've pulled away, and Dean didn't even realize he'd said it out loud, but it doesn't matter. "And you don't need to be nervous. I'll be there with you."

The thought should be a thousand times more nerve-wracking, not just going to Pride but going to Pride with Cas on his arm. It's not nerve-wracking at all, and he soon drifts off to sleep.

Friday goes by faster than it should. The six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, although packed in a car with five people, goes by in a blink. They stop for provisions before getting to Jody's, filling up on backpacks' worth of snacks.

They get to the house and are met with endless hugs and excitement to match. Patience, Alex, and Jody are already working on dinner for the bunch, while Charlie, Donna, and Kaia are running around prepping for the next day and dragging along a hesitant but nevertheless happy Claire. Dinner is chaotic and loud and there are way too many people at the table, and Dean has to step outside after a while.

He sits on the back porch steps. Claire joins him. She's holding a beer, he's not. He hasn't been drinking for a few months now. They don't talk, but she leans her head on his shoulder and they stay there a while, looking at the stars.

When they go back inside, Claire sits back down in her spot at Cas's left, across the table from Dean, and leans on his shoulder for a while too. It's her way of saying she cares, of saying I missed you without really saying it. Jack sits at Cas's right, talking excitedly with Patience about some tv show or other, and the image fills Dean with such fondness that he reaches over with his foot, presses it to Cas's ankle, and keeps it there for the rest of the night.

Dean, Cas, Jack, Sam, and Eileen spend the night spread out around in the living area while the girls sleep in their respective rooms, and Dean is only slightly less nervous as he falls asleep holding Cas’s hand.

---

The nerves all come flooding back as he’s parking the Impala the next morning.

They’re not able to get even remotely close to Phillips Avenue since the streets are so full. They park the three cars that all twelve of them came in as close as they can and then have to walk for another twenty minutes. From blocks and blocks away, people walk and holler and greet them excitedly, many of them trying to circle this swarm of flanneled individuals that are taking up a whole sidewalk. Granted, Dean and Claire are the only ones in their usual kind of outfit. The rest of the bunch is wearing as many colors as they could compile from their closets, half of them are wearing face paint, and the other half are carrying an assortment of pride flags.

They fit right in.

The walk toward the main avenue of the parade is kind of a blur for Dean. He knows he waved at a few people, some friends of Alex from high school joined the group at some point, and Jack already grabbed a snack from his backpack.

The actual parade is also kind of hazy. Getting out of the house that morning had been probably even more chaotic than the night before, so they’re a bit late and the parade has already been going for a good half hour. On top of that, they accidentally merge into it not quite at the starting point but a bit further down the road, in between a decked-out pickup truck and a group of people with dogs. Music is blaring, the dogs are all barking, a big float rides a few yards in front of them, and hundreds stand on the sidewalks recording on their phones and cheering them along.

Dean’s not sure they’re even supposed to be in the actual parade. Maybe they’re supposed to be on the sidewalks? Is this right? What is happening, what is he even doing here?

He doesn’t notice how heavy he’s breathing until Cas is squeezing his hand and beckoning him to meet his eyes. He does, and the blue in them, as imposing as the Atlantic, drowns out everything else around them. “You’re okay, my love,” Cas says. It’s a fact. As long as Dean is with him, he’s okay.

On his other side, Dean feels someone link their arm around his. It’s Charlie, and she’s beaming at them, her cheeks almost as red as her hair. It brings Dean back to reality, grounds him, but he’s okay now. He’s not alone, and he’s meant to be here.

He’s proud to be here.

The parade leads up to a sloping park, and at the lowest point of it, there’s a stage where Dean assumes someone will MC for the afternoon, or maybe perform. It’s grandiose in its simplicity, kind of like a Greek theater, with everyone settling down on the grass around it, expectantly.

“We’ll be right back,” Dean hears Sam say, and he turns to find they’re all set to spend the afternoon, towels laid and backpacks off (save for his). “Jack wants to go meet the drag queens,” Sam says with just a bit too much glee before he and Jack take off.

“It’s not just Jack,” Eileen smiles and follows.

Cas is already sitting, eating one of the PB&Js he packed as lunches for everyone. Jody and Donna are settling down as well and Charlie’s taking a dozen pictures, but the rest of the girls are all standing. “We’re gonna go check out the vendors,” Claire announces, and they start to take off as well.

“Be careful, please!” Dean calls after them, but they pay him no mind. He turns to Charlie. “Hey, your majesty, keep an eye on them will you?”

She smiles, bows gracefully, and heads in the same direction.

Jody stands and grabs Dean by the arm, beckoning him to talk in private for a second.

“What’s up?”

If Dean knows Jody at all, and he does, they’re on the brink of a mom talk.

“Look around, Dean.”

“What for?”

“Just look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Please?”

So, at her request, Dean starts taking in the environment. Now that everyone is gathered, he can actually see all the people that came out (heh) for the event. There are church groups, pet shelters, skateboarders, and rollerskaters. Drag queens are already taking pictures by the stage, and at least two people are wearing unicorn heads. A few vendors’ tents and food trucks surround the park, and rainbows completely dominate the scenery. There are elders, and kids, and all kinds of families and couples, and everyone looks… happy. Free.

And Dean is here with them. He is one of them.

There’s no danger, no monsters of any kind. No one to judge him, hurt him, call him sick in the head.

He finds Claire’s blonde head amongst the sea of shoppers at the edge of the park. She’s holding hands with Kaia and has one of the biggest smiles Dean has ever seen on her face. There’s no shame in it, and she’s not in any danger either. Things are different now, and she has the freedom to be herself that he never had at her age.

He has it now too. He can be himself.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s about to cry until Jody pulls him down into a hug.

“Dean, I am so proud of you.”

And then he cries.

---

They spend the afternoon laying on the grass, eating, drinking, and enjoying the festivities. The girls come back from the vendors’ tents after a full hour, and most of the bags on their arms are Charlie’s. She gets Cas a mug that says bee yourself in rainbow colors with an image of a cartoon bee, and she gets Dean a button pin that says AC/DC in pink and blue. There’s a meaning behind that apparently, and Dean decides he’ll look it up later.

Jack memorizes all the drag queen’s names. Donna takes a million pictures. They trade numbers with a few people.

There’s a big fireworks show just after sundown. It starts to get windy and a bit chilly, so Dean grabs the nearest pride flag and wraps it around himself. Cas, the perpetual freak who just doesn’t feel temperature apparently, is wearing a t-shirt and shorts and smiling at him unabashedly.

“What?”

“That’s the bisexual flag.”

So it is. “Shut up,” Dean says, but he’s smiling too. “You want in on this?”

He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond before he wraps it around his shoulders as well. The fireworks continue.

“You know,” Cas says after a beat. “As beautiful as they are, pyrotechnics are extremely damaging to the environment.”

Dean can’t help but laugh because of course, Cas would say something like that in a moment like this. He laughs and laughs and regrets being the only one to have heard that; then again, he’s the only one who could’ve found that funny.

He laughs a bit more, wipes a tear, and sees that Cas is still just solemnly watching the show.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He replies and then turns his head.

Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad. Then he remembers where he is, physically and in his life right now, realizes whom he’s surrounded by at this very second, and decides that he can.

So he does. It’s not unlike the way he kissed Cas when they rescued him from the Empty. Granted, there’s less sweat, blood, adrenaline. But just like that day, they’re both on the ground, and the gesture catches Cas by surprise. Just like that day, Dean pulls Cas in gently by the back of his neck and there’s no hesitance or fear. Just like that day, he just does it, presses their lips firmly together, and relishes in the taste of Castiel, in the feeling of the person he loves most in this world kissing him back.

The one big difference is this: that day marked the beginning of the rest of his life. Today? Today is just Dean’s first Pride.

[wormstacheangel]

Happy Birthday, Bec ( @chocolatecakecas)! Have some momma Dean and Daddy Cas get together :)

wc: 2.5k

Dean holds the preschool’s scrunched-up flyer in his hand before letting out a heavy sigh. He never thought he would ever celebrate Mother’s Day again, and he especially never thought that he would be the mother who would be celebrated.

He begged Cas not to make him do this, but it wasn’t Cas who he was afraid to disappoint.

Dean stuffed the paper back into his pocket before walking over to the front office to check-in for this Muffin with Mom event. He talked to the school beforehand to check if it was okay for him to show up to this event, but they already knew he was ‘Momma’ to Jack, so they saw it coming. Of course, they did but Dean sure as fuck didn’t.

He walks into the office and follows the signs that lead outside to the big grass area that transformed from a play area to a nicely decorated picnic area. Everything was pink, from the flowers to the plastic table cloths, but it didn’t feel too overwhelming because they were outside. His eyes spotted the small photo op area, and he couldn’t wait to get some cute pictures of him and Jack so Cas can add to his album.

At least that would be worth the embarrassment.

Dean joined some of the familiar faces of the sea of ladies that crowded the classroom doors—waiting for the kids to be let loose and get this party finally started. He smiles and waves at them, knowing them from pick up and playdate parties at their homes.

Dean and Cas know they can never host one at their home in the lakehouse cause while the outside has invisible warding, the inside looked like a crazy person lived in there. It was a heavily warded place that hides them for a good few miles to any supernatural monster— angels included, so it’s a good thing Cas knows how to use google maps or he would always skip their street— but the inside Jack was free to let his wings out and practice his powers.

“Okay!” He looks up to see Jack’s classroom open up. “Go find your Moms!”

He walks closer, seeing little rugrats running past him, and crouches until he meets the gaze of his little angel. “Hiya, bud!”

“Momma!” Jack shouts as he sprints to him and then jumps into Dean’s arms, almost knocking him back with his strength. Jack snuggles into Dean’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around his neck, staying locked in place as Dean stands up.

“Why are you surprised? Told you I was gonna come.” Dean rubs his hand up and down his back as they follow the group of moms to line up for the food. Other classes start to open up, and Dean at least wanted something to damn snack on while he’s here.

“I know.” Jack pulls back and presses Dean’s cheeks together with his little hands, and luckily with none of his strength. “I was just scared.”

“Why?” Dean asks with puckered lips.

“Cause,” Jack sighs before leaning back down to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. His tiny fist is holding the collar of his jacket in a tight grip. “I know you’re not a Momma like the other Momma’s.”

Dean’s stomach drops at the words.

He quickly got out of line and went inside his now empty classroom so they can talk. Dean hates these tiny chairs, but he sat down anyway, hoping it won’t break from under him, before pulling Jack away to face him.

“Jack,” He was stubborn, but a little tickling always did the trick. Dean takes Jack’s face in between his hands so he would look at him. “I am not like the other Momma’s, but I am still yours. That’s why I’m here, right?”

Jack nods, a small smile on his face that was a carbon copy of Cas’s own.

“I better be, cause I heard you owe me a muffin!” Dean leans forward to gently bite Jack’s cheek, who giggles and screams while he pushed Dean away with child strength.

“Stop! Momma!” Jack laughs before Dean showers his face with kisses so that he could see the pout leave and a bright grin appear. One that made Dean love life so much more than he ever thought he could.

“Love you.” Dean places a final kiss on Jack’s nose. Only for Jack to copy him and repeat, “Love you.”

They went back outside and had to go to the back of the line, but with Jack in his arms, he was perfectly content. He loves hearing his little four-year-old ramble on while telling a story.

When they got their food—a muffin and some damn apple juice, he’s going to have to take Jack to lunch after this—they went to sit at a crowded table that was calling for Dean to join them. Usually, everyone enjoys Cas’s company a lot more than his, but right now, they had Dean to play with, and he didn’t mind getting the attention of all the milf’s in school.

He sat down in the middle of the table with Jack on his lap so Dean can make sure his kid at least eats a bit of the muffin before running around with the rest of his friends. The whole mommy and me event just became a big chance for mommy’s to gossip, and he couldn’t help but wanna be a part of it.

They were all talking about a Mom who didn’t show up and instead sent the babysitter when Jack finally got inpatient and ran off to play with his friends. When Jack was out of earshot, all eyes fell on Dean when he stuffed almost half a muffin in his mouth. He looks at them with raised eyebrows, asking them a silent, “What?” as their smiles spelled trouble for Dean.

“We heard from the secretary that you and Castiel aren’t together...together.” Liz whispers the last word as she leaned closer to him.

“That’s not a secret.” Dean swallows the rest of the muffin and finishes off the apple juice. “Cas and me are friends.”

“Really?” Carmen sat back in her chair, looking as if the universe didn’t make sense anymore. All eyes fell on Liz again, as if she was chosen to be the ring leader to ask all these questions.

“But you guys talk about each other like—I was gonna say like I talk about my husband, but that’s not true. I complain more than anything, but you two are always--you’re like a team. Like an actual team! And the way--the way you look at each other!”

“Okay,” Dean clears his throat, feeling his face heat up. “I don’t know what you are getting at, but Cas and I are best friends. We’re just raising his kid together. My brother helps too. It’s not-It’s just not like that with us.”

“But, do you want it to be?” Carmen leans in again, and Dean looks around at the milf’s that thought Cas and him were a married couple. “Cause it kinda looks like you want it to be.”

Dean opened his mouth to answer defensively cause, of course, he didn’t. He was perfectly fine living his domestic life with Cas and Jack. Maybe they were not a traditional family, but there was no damn way they would ever be with ⅔ of the family being celestial beings. Still, going to bed alone was getting harder each night. The longing stares have become heavier, and all the missed opportunities were starting to weigh on him.

He wanted so much more, but how can he ask for that when this is already the happiest he has ever been and the happiest he has ever seen Cas. He can’t risk making it awkward by expressing his feelings that may not be reciprocated. That’s fucking embarrassing for one, but Dean also didn’t want to risk losing the closest thing he has ever gotten to having a family of his own.

“It’s not that simple.” Dean finally groaned as he ran his hand through his hair. “Things are complicated between us.”

“Well, uncomplicate them!” Liz hits his arm to grab Dean’s attention before he falls back into his head.

“Mommy! Come watch me on the swings!” One of the kids call for them, and all the rest of the kids came running over, Jack included. But by the look of Jack’s face, Dean can tell the superhearing was working perfectly fine.

“Come here, bud.” Dean opens his arms, and while the rest of the mothers got up to watch their kid play, Jack stayed curled up in Dean’s arms as they finish their muffins together.

“Momma?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“We’re a real family, right?”

Dean presses a kiss to Jack’s hair. “Course we are, Jack. Me and your Daddy love you.”

“And you love each other?” He looks up at Dean with those same piercing blue eyes and curious look that he found so fond in Cas.

“Always have.” Dean quickly answers as he squeezes his kid. “Now eat so we can take some pictures.”

Dean ends up taking Jack home, with the preschool arts and crafts presents in the passenger seat, because maybe Dean does have to get his head out of his ass. Cause Dean knows Cas loves him. Was it the same kind of love Dean felt? Who knows? But they are going to find out.

“We’re just gonna pick up Daddy and go out to get some real food in you. Got it, bud?” Dean looks over at the rearview mirror to see a thumbs up and an excited grin.

“Got it, Momma!”

When Dean parks the car outside, he told Jack to wait in the car—the kid can turn on the car and play with the radio with his mind, he’ll be fine— while he went inside to tell Cas to get ready.

“I’m home!” Dean called out as soon as he was in the house and then hears an “In here!” coming from the bathroom. He walks in to see Cas was under the bathroom sink, all the cleaning products spread around him, probably fixing that leak that was bothering him so much.

“Hey,” Dean kicks him gently to get his attention before crouching beside him. “Go get ready. I have Jack in the car; let’s go have some lunch.”

Cas scooted out from under the sink, and when he sat up, his face was only inches away from Dean’s own. He looked utterly unphased from being so close while Dean’s breath hitched at feeling Cas’s sigh touch his lips.

“I don’t even eat, Dean.” Cas wipes his hands on a towel before pushing himself up to stand. Dean took a shaky breath before he stands up too. “And why did you take Jack from school so early?”

Dean follows Cas out of the bathroom and into Cas’s bedroom, “You eat sometimes and cause I wanted to have some family time.” Dean sits at Cas’s bed as he watches the angel change into a clean shirt, his back muscles as beautiful as usual. “And I just, I think we should talk.”

Cas turns around to look at Dean with a curious head tilt. “About?”

Dean stood up to slowly walk over to Cas, not meeting his eyes, as he whispers, “Us.” Dean can see Cas start to look panic at the word, and before Cas could say anything, Dean leans forward to press his lips at the corner of Cas’s mouth. “I wanna know how you feel about us.”

Cas stood wide-eyed as Dean pulls away. He waits for an answer, but the angel was just staring at him with fingers twitching to reach and hold something. Dean took Cas’s hand and twined their fingers together; hopefully, that is what Cas wanted.

“I know we’re just playing pretend here,” Dean continues as he looks down at their hands. “But I’m tired of playing, Cas. I want, fuck okay, shit, I just-- I want to-I want,”

“Yes?” Cas leans in closer, urging Dean to continue, but Dean wasn’t sure he could, so he looks up to see Cas lick those soft lips.

He knows he wasn’t good at using his words, but he has always been good at showing, doing, so he lets out a quiet, “Fuck it.” Before letting actions speak.

His free hand went to the back of Cas’s neck to hold him as their lips crashed together. Dean knew Cas could pull away whenever he wanted with his angel strength, but he also knew Cas was letting Dean take the lead in this. Letting Dean push him up against the dresser and kiss him with panic but also so much love. Cause he loves him. He loves Cas. He was so fucking in love with him that it drove him crazy at times, but he couldn’t imagine doing this domestic life with anybody else.

“I love you.” Dean finally breaths against Cas’s lips. It overwhelmed him to finally have those words said aloud while Cas’s hands were burning his skin from under his shirt, but it also made him feel lighter. To say the words he wanted to scream. “I love you so much, Cas.”

Cas’s grip loosened for a second before it tightened, and Dean took that opportunity to open his eyes to look at him. To read the unreadable.

He leans back to see Cas’s baby blue’s water.

“Cas?”

Cas responds with a few blinks, tears falling freely now, as his expression softens at his name. “Yes?” One of Cas’s hands reached to slowly caress Dean’s face as if trying to see if this was real. If Dean was real.

“Kinda pouring my heart out here, buddy, maybe wanna respond?” Dean turns his head just enough to press a kiss to Cas’s palm, hearing Cas let out a small gasp.

“I’m confused. This morning you left telling me you were gonna kick my ass for sending you to the preschool, and now,” Cas leans forward, slowly and hesitantly, but Dean didn’t move. He closes his eyes and waits until their lips met again. Feeling his heart pound and breath catch as the kiss was softer this time. His head flooded with so much want, but Cas quickly pulls away as he continued, “And now I can do that.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes flutter open as he clears his throat. “Yeah, Momma had a little push from the milf’s this morning, and I just realized that I want— I want you. I want us to be together like a real family. Cause I love you and-and, it would be nice if you fucking said it back sometime soon.”

Cas laughs a low chuckle that made Dean’s toes curl as he leans forward again to press their noses together. “I love you too, Dean.”

“Took you long enough.” Dean was going in for another kiss, but the car horn made them both jump. “Shit, our kid still in the car.”

Dean leaves a kiss on Cas’s cheek, feeling more intimate than the last few kisses. “Get ready. I’ll wait for you in the car.” Dean didn’t meet Cas’s eyes as his blush rose to his cheeks.

Tag List: hello this is long enough to tag you guys :)

@tearsofgrace @nguyenxtrang @smiledean @chocolatecakecas

@blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @shelikestv @spicyspiess @icefire149

@archervale @starlightcastiel @sierraxnevada

@lexies-obsessions-and-memes @castiel-is-a-cat @slipper007

@belacoded @takemetotheworld @imlivingliferightnow

@celestialcastiel @manifestingdestiel @sinnabonka

@confusedisaster @wikiangela @carryonwaywardsquirrel

@my-people-skillls-are-rusty @thefaeriemagic3 @wigglebox

@im-sam-fucking-winchester @becky-srs @thefantasyfiend

@deanwinchesterstentaclefetish @achillestiel @sarahblakenatural

@likepurplemuses @marichankitty @castielkrushnic @bestiegirlboss

@martymar1963 @destielfactory @mjthehumandisaster

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @destielskygalaxypalace

@trasherasswood @s-r-clowns @eshaninjer

@readeroftheimmortalbooks

[whelvenwings]

Up to Date?

Length: ~5k Tags: Canon Divergent, Y yo a ti Cas timeline, Misunderstandings

It's three months after Castiel was brought back from the Empty after confessing his love to Dean, and things are awkward between them. They haven't talked about it. Castiel can feel how much Dean wants to, but he won't let himself, and Castiel can only wait. But one night, with Castiel halfway across the world, he gets a text from Dean that might change everything - even if Dean didn't quite mean it to.

Castiel

It was just awkward. Castiel couldn’t deny it. Things between himself and Dean were definitely awkward.

Three months back on Earth, safe from the Empty with a little help from the Winchesters and from Jack – but Castiel and Dean still hadn’t talked about it. The things that Castiel had said – and what Dean had said in return.

I love you. Me too, Cas.

Castiel knew he should have expected this, the awkwardness. Hadn’t he known Dean long enough, at this point, to be able to predict him? And there was nothing more predictable than Dean not wanting to talk about something.

Still, it hurt. There had been that shining moment of happiness, if a word as soft as happiness was even the right way to describe the feeling of absolute blazing corrosive joy that Castiel had felt when Dean had told him that his feelings were reciprocated. And now, there was just… silence.

It was awkward.

And Castiel didn’t know what to do. Was Dean waiting for him to say something? But Castiel had already said it all. It was Dean who’d only managed to choke out a few words, Dean who must have more to say. And yet he said nothing. Days were slipping past full of staring and loaded sentences and quietness.

The fact that it was all so familiar didn’t make it any better. Castiel wanted something different. It had been different before they’d said anything out loud, but – but there had been something about hearing Dean say those words, me too, Cas, that had changed everything.

He didn’t need much. Nothing grand or unusual, only something to ease the tension. Even if it was just an expression on Dean’s face that acknowledged what had passed between them, instead of pushing it away.

But Dean… Castiel knew it was different for him. There were things that Dean didn’t allow himself, for a tangle of reasons that Castiel only barely understood. Dean didn’t let himself touch. Dean didn’t let himself speak. Dean didn’t let himself look.

But Dean wanted to.

Castiel knew Dean wanted to. So many aching years that Dean had longed for him, and Castiel had been able to feel it like a prayer – and not some soft and murmured thing, a prayer of an older kind, something raw and wordless and desperate. Something on its knees. Castiel could feel the yearning in Dean. It would have been so simple for Castiel to offer touch, but Dean hadn’t ever really let him. And Dean still wasn’t letting him.

And Castiel could still feel the longing.

When they were together, and when they were several thousand miles apart, too. It was there. Never any quieter or gentler, not even from far away. It always touched the same place in Castiel’s grace that it had done from the start. And the feeling of it was just the same, too, like being doused in oil and dropped into flames that reached and hoped and hungered.

Beautiful fire. A beautiful prayer. Castiel wanted to answer it. Dean behaved as though he didn’t know it was there.

The tension in the bunker had become too much, last night, and Castiel had abruptly left with just a quick text to Dean.

> I’m going to look for the artifact Sam read about in Seoul. It shouldn’t be left unguarded.

The artifact was probably just a trinket, if Castiel was being honest with himself, and its significance paled in comparison to everything they’d been through, but it was a reason to get away from everything and give himself a break. It would have only taken Castiel moments to find the artifact if he’d wanted, but he drew it out. He walked rather than flying, pacing the streets of Seoul, following up on the leads that Sam had found. His grace hummed and sighed against Dean’s prayer.

He hoped that when he returned, something might be different. That he and Dean could talk. Maybe even – as he walked down a side-street with neon lights that glowed through the drizzling rain, Castiel allowed himself a wry little smile. Maybe even do something together. Go somewhere. Go on a date.

A date. To a human the word would probably sound little, and normal, and silly for an angel to be thinking about. But to Castiel, it just sounded like something new.

And it was so easy, somehow, to picture Dean coming into the bunker's kitchen, pointing at Castiel semi-aggressively, and saying, so. You, me, date. Up for it?

Would that be how Dean would phrase it? Castiel tried it a few different ways in his head. Down for it? How about it? You in? Each time, the Dean in Castiel's mind looked almost angry as he waited for an answer. Each time, Dean's face softened when Castiel said, yes.

So easy to imagine. So out of reach. Castiel walked on through Seoul, the rain starting to thrum down harder.

–––––

Dean

It was awkward.

Dean knew it was awkward, and he wasn’t thinking about it – he wasn’t. Except when Cas did stupid shit like ditching the bunker without warning, leaving just some handwritten note like a kid sneaking out of his tent at summer camp, it made it kind of harder to ignore.

Staring down at the note in the bunker’s library, Dean pressed his lips together and read it over again, his eyes scanning the words while his brain paid no attention to them, lost in thought.

There was something so ridiculous about it all. The moment between them, the – whatever it had been, when they’d admitted their crap to each other – it felt so overblown to look back on. Sure, Cas had had to summon the Empty, he’d had to get all deep just to save Dean’s hide. But Dean… what he’d said had just been stupid. No point to it. Dean cringed when he thought about it.

Me too, Cas.

The words were so little like something Dean would ever say that they might as well have been in a foreign language. Me too, Cas? That kind of thing didn’t have to be said. Because obviously, him too. But what were they supposed to do about it? Buy each other flowers? Feed each other chocolates? God forbid – hold hands?

Dean felt a little hot rush in his chest just thinking about it, and an accompanying stab of guilt. What were they, seventeen? They were old. Too old for flowers and chocolates. Too old for holding hands. And too old for this weird tension between them, Jesus. Who got nervous and tongue-tied and awkward around a crush at Dean’s age?

Who called it a crush at Dean’s age?

Dean, sat in the library at the bunker, dropped the note Cas had left and picked up his phone. Practicalities. Just focus on the practicalities. He should at least make sure Sam had kept Cas up to date with the latest research about the artifact that might be hidden in Seoul.

Dean tapped on the screen of his phone for a few seconds, holding it a little further away from his eyes than he used to have to do. He read over what he’d typed once, and then hit send.

–––––

Castiel

Castiel’s phone hummed.

With a little clench in his gut, Castiel stepped under the cover of a dark doorway to get out of the rain, and pulled it out of his pocket. Dean’s name was on the screen, obviously. There was the usual leap of excitement, tinged with a familiar sinking feeling in his chest. Dean would probably be angry with him for leaving.

With a stoic line to his jaw, Castiel opened the text, knowing it couldn’t be anything good.

> So. You up to date?

Castiel stared down at his phone.

No… no. He couldn’t have read that right. He blinked, and tried it again.

It still said the same thing.

You up to date?

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was… up to date? If he… wanted to date?

However many times Castiel reread the text, it said the same thing. Castiel stood absolutely still, his eyes puzzling out the letters of Dean’s message again and again.

It was – it was just the way Castiel had imagined it, if not word perfect. The brusque tone, the question. Castiel, half in shadow in a porch in rainy Seoul, stared down at his phone as if it had just promised him the moon.

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was up for dating.

Via text. Obviously. Maybe all this time, it had just been that trying to talk face-to-face had been too much. Maybe Castiel should have left for halfway across the world months ago.

Castiel could feel his heart pounding. He couldn’t stop himself reading Dean’s question, over and over again.

–––––

Dean

When the text from Cas finally came back, Dean snatched up his phone. It wasn’t that he’d been sitting and staring at it, waiting for a reply – he’d just got a little lost in thought, was all, wondering where Cas was and why he wasn’t answering sooner.

The text, though, when Dean read it, put a frown on his face.

> I’m so glad you asked. Yes, I would love to.

Wait. What? Dean checked over what he’d said himself in his first text, just to be sure he hadn’t made some kind of a typo. Nope, he’d definitely just asked if Cas was up to date with the artifact.

So, Cas would love to… what?

Cas was glad he’d asked about what?

None of it sounded like the answer to a simple question about research on an artifact, at all. Maybe Cas was just in the middle of something, and misread Dean’s text. Not something that had ever happened before, but still. Whatever.

Dean circled his thumbs over the keyboard on his screen, and then typed a reply.

< Love to do what

Keep it simple, he figured.

He sat puzzling over Cas’ first message as he waited for a reply. So glad you asked. What did that even mean? Was Cas ever particularly glad when Dean asked anything?

The reply came back quickly, this time.

> Anything you want to do. :) Maybe just going to a bar?

Dean squinted down at his phone.

Anything he wanted to do about what? A bar?

Was he losing it? Dean reread the text over and then over again, and looked back up their conversation to try to make Cas’ reply make sense. The emoticon was typical enough, even though Dean hadn’t seen a smiley one in a while. The way it made his chest squeeze was ridiculous. It was just a smile. And it just followed the words, anything you want to do.

Before he could let his mind run too far with what exactly that could mean, Dean texted back in confusion,

< You want to go to a bar?

There was something about this conversation that was making his heart beat harder. Come on, he told it. What, you can face down the end of the world more than once and a little text conversation still has you like this?

Ignoring his solid logic, Dean’s heart only raced faster when Cas texted back,

> Yes, of course. Unless you think it’s a bad idea?

So… Cas wanted to go to a bar? With Dean?

That was – well, it wasn’t that strange on Dean’s personal spectrum of strange to not strange these days. Fighting Death and God and God’s sister and all the rest of it kind of put a bunch of other strange crap way down the list. But this was still… weird. Not bad weird, necessarily.

But how had they got here, why were they talking about this? What kind of a bar, why? Dean had just wanted to check up on Cas in a few brief words and suddenly they were making evening plans? Cas was making no sense. Was he doing it on purpose? Dean read the whole conversation over again, and pulled a face of utter and annoyed confusion for the benefit of no one, and shook his head.

He thought about it, and licked his lips, and shook his head again.

And then thought some more, and made a hand gesture, as if asking of no one, what the fuck.

He texted out,

< What do u mean

He stared down at the text for a second, and then deleted it, and tried instead,

< Why are we talking about this

He didn’t even read that one over again before deleting it. He made another face, and then quickly typed and sent,

< But you’re in Seoul

However they’d arrived at the idea of going to a bar, it didn’t particularly matter when Castiel was thousands of miles away. Had deliberately ditched, in fact, which was more of an obstacle to them having a nice evening out tonight than the distance between them, but Dean wasn’t going to say that directly.

> Only for a short while longer. I’ve almost completed the search for the artifact. Then I’ll come back :)

Another damn smiley face, another little lift in Dean’s chest. Look at him. Fully grown, and soft over the idea of his best friend looking forward to spending an evening together. Yikes.

Practicalities. Dean fired off another text.

< Okay... you just wanna talk or what

If Cas was going to try to insist that they talk about stuff, well – the drinks would probably be a good place to start, but Dean would need to psych himself up to the idea of trying to explain anything at all that had happened between them. Me too, Cas. He kept hearing himself say it and wanting to bury his head in his hands. What had he been thinking. What had Cas been thinking, when he’d decided on Dean. That had to earn the award for the worst fucking choice in the history of the world.

Dean’s phone buzzed in his hands.

> I think talking is what people usually do on a date. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Dean’s eyes went wide.

–––––

Castiel

Across the world, in the porch in Seoul, Castiel watched as Dean’s little typing bubble with three dot dot dots appeared, and disappeared, and reappeared.

He tried to quiet the excitement in his chest, tried to remind himself that Dean had just implied fairly heavily that he wouldn’t want to talk on their date – which wasn’t unexpected for Dean, but it did leave Castiel wondering what else Dean might want to do.

A thought occurred to Castiel about something they might be able to do without talking, and he swallowed, and felt his hopes fly higher.

Or perhaps Dean just wanted to sit together in silence. That would be alright, too. Companionship in the quiet. When he thought about it, Castiel knew it would be more than enough just to sit by Dean in a bar and drink together, knowing that they were both choosing to be there. Even if they didn’t say a single word the whole evening, even if Dean didn’t so much as look at him the whole night. They could spend the date speechlessly. But it would be a date. It would be an acknowledgement. Maybe it would ease a little of the longing that Castiel felt and felt and felt from Dean, burning.

Finally, a text from Dean came in.

> Wait what

Wait, what?

Castiel felt his heart sink.

There was something wrong. That tone, just two stark words – something wasn’t right. Castiel scrolled back up their conversation. Had he accidentally said something rude? He couldn’t find it, reading the texts over and then over again. He’d used emoticons to show that he was happy. Had they seemed sarcastic?

Did it seem as though Castiel didn’t really want to go on a date? Or that he wouldn’t really be content for them to not talk on the date? Hurriedly, Castiel began typing again.

< I mean it. We don’t have to say anything. I just want to be there with you.

It was the kind of text that Castiel would ordinarily type out and then delete because it was too forthright, too emotional, too much for Dean – but this time, he just hit send before he could think about it. Worse than Dean being grossed out by Castiel openly having feelings was the idea of Dean not knowing that Castiel really did feel those things.

There was a long silence. Castiel stood still, waiting for Dean.

How many times had he stood, quiet, expectant, wanting Dean to be ready, hoping he would be ready, prepared to wait for an eternity until he was? In the span of Castiel’s own lifetime, he’d waited just a blink of an eye. But somehow this blink had been torturously slow. A torture Castiel would have fought to the death before trading.

Castiel’s phone hummed.

> You really want to go on a date

Castiel stared down at the screen. He couldn’t tell if the tone was judgemental or vulnerable. He blinked, and thought hard – and then, with a little shake of his head and hard press of his lips, he made a choice.

Quite suddenly, the street in Seoul was empty.

–––––

Dean

Dean almost fell out of his chair when Cas appeared opposite him in the bunker.

“Shit!” Dean swore, grabbing the table in front of him with one hand. He watched as Cas tilted his head just slightly sideways at Dean’s other hand, instinctively on the butt of his gun.

He eased his hold.

“Could’ve killed you,” Dean mumbled. Cas smiled wryly.

“You could have tried,” he said.

Dean swallowed. Right. Angel powers were all the way back up, these days.

“You’re back,” he said blankly, just to say something, because immediately leaving the room didn’t seem like it would be a good idea – however much the nervousness in his brain was insisting that this conversation wasn’t going to go well, and he needed to bail.

“Yes.” Cas lifted his phone up to face Dean, so that Dean could read their conversation on the screen. Dean glanced over it. It was strange seeing his own words on the left side of the screen, almost embarrassing. “What does this mean?” Cas asked.

Dean got to his feet, feeling too low down still in his chair.

“Uh…” He watched Cas warily, while trying to keep his tone light. “You tell me, Cas.”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “You asked me if I really wanted to go on a date.”

“Yeah,” Dean said.

Cas stared at him, clearly expecting more. Dean tried waiting him out for a few seconds in silence, hoping Cas would say something else, but Cas had that determined look in his eye that told Dean he was going to have to be the one to say something.

“What about it?” Dean said.

“What does the question mean?” Cas asked.

“Well, Cas, it’s kind of all right there. In the message.”

“You just asked if I really want to go on a date,” Cas said again.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “So, do you?”

It was all wrong. His tone was all wrong. It was aggressive, and blunt. He sounded outright angry at the idea that Cas might actually want to go on a date, and that tone didn’t even vaguely map over the ridiculous leap in his chest at the idea of a date together.

But somehow, Cas’ shoulders were dropping, and his face was relaxing, as though – as though that was what he’d been expecting to hear. Or even what he’d been hoping to hear.

“Yes,” Cas said.

Dean felt his mouth fall slightly open and his eyes go wide, and he looked away.

He could feel his breath suddenly coming a little short. He tried to stand very still and be very quiet so that Cas wouldn’t see what that one-word answer had meant. How much it had shaken Dean.

It was only when he heard the yes that he realised just how little he’d expected to ever hear it.

Cas wanted to date. The hot rush in Dean’s chest was back, and the accompanying punch of guilt readied itself… but held back. Because Cas had said yes.

He’d said yes.

“Is that a surprise?” Cas said, his tone dry but not unkind. Dean swallowed, and managed a smile when he looked back over.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Oh.” Cas looked confused. “But… I told you…”

“I know.” Dean shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d wanna do any of that crap, though. Human stuff.”

He saw something clear on Cas’ face, as though something that had been weighing on him had suddenly been lifted.

“Ah,” he said. “Well… I do. Want to.”

Dean nodded, once, a little sharply. God, he had no idea how to do this. And it didn’t help that he could feel things moving inside him, shifting, like walls crumbling, like stuff he’d smothered finally elbowing its way up to be felt – a blazing feeling, a hurting feeling, a wanting. Somehow both familiar and terrifying.

“Okay,” Dean managed aloud.

“As long as you still want to,” Cas said.

Still? Had Dean ever actually told Cas that he wanted to go on a date? Maybe he’d just been that obvious. Or maybe Cas had actually been able to guess what Dean wanted from the way Dean had said me too, Cas, even though Dean hadn’t been able to guess what Cas wanted in spite of literally being told I love you.

“Do you?” Cas asked, when Dean was silent for a second too long.

That wanting feeling, that hot tense ache that almost had Dean’s teeth gritting against it at this point, it was demanding a yes. It was saying go, go over there, what are you waiting for now? But Dean swallowed it. He couldn’t just have that. He couldn’t. Could he?

“Well,” he said. “I dunno. I mean. We are kinda old for it. Aren’t we?”

Dean watched Castiel consider it, his heart thudding.

“I’m fairly old,” Castiel said, “yes. But I think I’m still allowed to try new things.”

“New things,” Dean echoed.

“Yes.”

“Like… dating.”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “If you want to.”

“And like…” Dean went to say something else, and then stipped himself. Too many things all rushing to the front at once. Too many possibilities. Too many things that he’d given up thinking he could ever have. Too many things he’d told himself it was right that he didn’t have, because it’d be embarrassing if he did.

But now, here was Castiel, standing in front of him and saying he wanted to go on a date. Watching Dean quietly, waiting for him to finish what he’d started to say.

“Like…” Dean said, and then stopped again, and shook his head. “I don’t know, Cas. I’m not… you know.”

“You don’t want to?” Castiel said, the question spoken so neutrally that Dean knew it came with effort – Castiel’s muscles had to be heaving with holding that door open for Dean to leave through, if he wanted. But Castiel was still holding the door. Still saying, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.

“No, I – yeah. I mean, I – yeah, I want to,” Dean said, saying the last part to the floor. His chest felt as though it was going to crack open. He wanted walk around the table between him and Cas, and drop to his knees, and just ask Cas with his eyes to touch him, anywhere, anyhow, gentle or not. “Just… I mean, look at us. Are we really gonna fit with any of that crap?”

He couldn’t imagine them trying to do the usual sweet romantic stuff. Dates and gifts and cards and flowers. So stupid after everything they’d been through, like sticking heart-shaped bows on the muzzles of two rusting guns.

“What kind of crap?” Castiel asked.

“You know. The whole schtick. Lovey-dovey crap.” Dean mumbled it, aware that even in describing it he sounded ridiculous. Lovey-dovey? Christ.

“I thought we could just try things out,” Castiel said. “And see if we can do them our way.”

“But what if it doesn’t work,” Dean said, making an attempt not to sound too wretched. He watched Castiel, waiting for him to give up, to say this was already too much work, that it wasn’t worth it, and they should just carry on going as they had been.

“Then we try something else,” Castiel said.

“Right,” Dean said, with an almost-laugh. “And we just do that over and over, huh.”

“If you’d like.”

“You’d seriously be okay with just keeping on trying forever?” He said it as if it were a joke.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Of course.”

Dean went quiet. The expanse of the table between them was far, much too far. He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do.

Cas saying that he’d keep trying forever was absurd. What was even more absurd was that Dean actually believed him. Cas had that look on his face, the one that allowed no argument, not angry or proud, just – sure. Certain.

If nothing they did together felt right, Cas would stick by him and keep trying new things. Forever.

Dean felt a part of himself breathe out, and with it went the last of the wall. Now Dean was immolating, standing still in the library of the bunker, just burning and burning with wanting to be touched by Cas, and –

As Dean watched, Cas’ jaw was tightening, as though he too were holding himself back against what he needed.

They stared at each other over the table. You first, Dean begged him silently. Please, just come here, just come here.

Cas’ blue eyes were locked with his, trying to say something Dean couldn’t hear.

“Cas,” Dean said, into the silence.

Cas watched him, waiting.

Dean’s mind was a blank. He didn’t know how to take this feeling, this all-encompassing burning wanting yearning feeling, and turn it into words. He didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted without accidentally putting it out of his own reach in the asking. He didn’t know how to want in the way that received, only in the way that was hopeless.

And Cas only looked at him and waited.

Dean opened his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said. Cas’ expression flickered, but he didn’t move. “I – you – Cas, Jesus, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Dean said quickly, immediately.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

“Yeah. I mean…” Dean swallowed. “No.”

Now Cas looked confused.

“Do you want me to…” Cas paused, puzzling it out. Dean watched him thinking, if I shouldn’t go, and I shouldn’t stay, then…?

“Cas,” Dean said, “come here.”

Cas blinked, and Dean watched the slope of his shoulders change, watched the way Cas’ eyes lightened with a sudden hope. He watched Cas take a step around the table, and then another, slowly, as though afraid to scare Dean off.

Dean couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. His hands were too big. He’d just asked Cas to come to him, and Cas was coming to him.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Dean moved, quickly, decisively, making for Cas as Cas came towards him, needing to be close and needing it now, and then – and then they were in front of each other in the bunker library, they were right in front of each other, standing with their hands by their sides and looking at each other. And all Dean could think as he looked at Cas was,

This is so heavy, it’s too much, it means too much.

And all Dean’s furiously thudding heart wanted was touch, anyway, no matter what it meant.

Cas reached up a hand, and gently – so gently – put it against Dean’s cheek.

Dean held his head up for a long moment, trying to keep himself together, keep it all in, be still, be silent. He gritted his teeth against the feeling in his chest, against the blazing of his happiness –

And then, he let go.

He closed his eyes, and breathed out. And leaned into the touch.

“I love you,” he heard Cas say.

“You shouldn’t.”

“I love you,” Cas said again, more determinedly, and Dean felt Cas’ forehead press to his own.

The touch of him was better than absolution. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Dean could feel the love of it running through him, easing the rusted gritty parts of him that had thought all this beyond him, and he wanted to gasp through the feeling of it like he was swimming through cold water. If he’d tried ten minutes ago to imagine Cas saying I love you to him again, Dean would have imagined it so sweet and unlike them. But this, this was happening. Cas’ forehead against Dean’s. Cas’ voice saying those words, I love you. And it felt real.

It felt like him, Dean, and it felt like Cas. This was who they were. This was how they loved each other.

“Me too,” Dean said. “Me too, Cas.”

He leaned forwards, and kissed Cas.

They didn’t go to the bar, in the end. They found they had enough to do without going out.

–––––

Dean

The next morning, in the kitchen, Dean turned to Cas and said casually,

“By the way, you never actually said. Are you up to date with the new research on the artifact? We should probably still try to find the damn thing.”

“Am I up to…”

Dean watched as Cas’ expression changed. It went from slight confusion, to sudden horror – and finally settled on a kind of dry acceptance.

“What?” Dean asked.

Cas came to stand by Dean, and because he could, Dean leaned forwards and kissed him again. His heart raced as he did it. Cas kissed him back, and Dean felt as though gravity probably shouldn’t be holding him down at this point.

“I, um,” Cas said. “When you texted me yesterday… I thought when you asked me that, you were asking me on a date.”

Dean’s brain took a second to catch up – and then he pressed his lips together to hold in a laugh. Cas tilted his head to one side.

“Don’t,” Cas said.

“I wouldn’t,” Dean said.

“Dean…”

“I’ll never mention it again.”

“I thought…” Cas closed his eyes, his head dropping as he smiled again at his own misunderstanding, and Dean let himself laugh. He reached out and put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, still a little tentative, still feeling his heart sing with the ability to touch. Cas leaned in, their bodies swaying together slightly.

“I love you,” Dean said, the words flowing up out of him like water from a spring, so easily, so naturally. He felt the immediate seize of panic afterwards, hearing those three words said in his own voice, out of his own mouth – but he couldn’t regret them, not when he saw Cas’ head lean back again, his blue eyes glowing with happiness.

“I love you,” Cas answered him. “I love you.”

[hahahahahangst]

Outlaws 2 (Be The Young 15)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault*

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

Outlaws

They’ll never understand the honor among these thieves.

The journey was quiet. Both Emily and Sam had a lot of things to reflect on. Emily kept going through the names Ash gave them, thinking about how she was the only one left alive of her age. “Stop reading those names.” Said Sam, about five miles away from Lafayette. “It’s not doing you any good and I can hear you over thinking about them in your mind.” “Am I the only one who finds it a little bit disturbing how you can just hear me think?” “Trust me, I would turn it off if I could, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.” “Right.” She exhaled and put the paper away. “It happened to me too, you know?” “Really?” “Yeah, back in Portland. At one point I told you to shut the fuck up and I felt your feelings getting hurt. Like the princess you truly are.” She mocked. “Fuck you man, I thought we were about to die!” “We’re always about to die.” She exhaled. “But it’s alright, just- very weird feeling.” “Yup.” “You think Dean is already on our tracks?” “Probably, we’re lucky if he’s not waiting for us at the police station.”

To their surprise, Dean wasn’t there. After gathering Scott’s family address, they headed to his house. His mother welcomed them warmly, especially after they told her they were Scott’s high school mates. “Scotty was a good boy. He changed a lot since you knew him.” Said his mother. “What do you mean?” Sam’s interest seemed roused. “It started about a year ago with these headaches. And then he got depressed, paranoid, nightmares.” Sam and Emily exchanged a quick look before he investigated further. “Nightmares? Um, did he ever talk to you about his nightmares? What he saw, or…” “No, no. He closed up with me. I tried to get him help, but nothing took. He'd just lock himself in his room for days.” “Miss Carey, I’m sorry if this is an indelicate question.” Asked Emily. “But you think maybe we could see his room?” As they entered Scott’s room, Sam started taking a look around as Emily kept the conversation going with the mother. Suddenly, Sam walked behind her and sneakily pushed something into her left pocket. From touch alone, Emily thought it was some sort of container, but she ignored it and kept talking with the woman. Suddenly, he appeared next to her. “Miss Carey, it was very nice of you to let us in today. I hope we weren't too nosy." He smiled. "No, not at all. It's nice to talk with someone who loved him."

"So, what is this?" Emily took out the mysterious container out of her pocket. "Prescription pills?" "Yeah. They have the name of the doctor who cured him. Maybe he will know something his mother didn't." As they kept walking, Emily started noticing someone was following them. You see them as well? Yup. Be ready at the next corner we pass. They approached a turn in the sidewalk and right after passing it, they turned around, grabbed whoever was following them from one shoulder each and shoved them against the wall. "Please!" Said a female voice coming from the dark figure. "Who are you?!" Sam asked, upset. "Please, listen to me. You're in danger." Sam and Emily looked at each other briefly before carefully letting the girl go. She was shaking in fear, terrified. "Why were you following us?" "I told you, I came to warn you, you- you might blow up soon!" Emily raised her eyebrows. "Blow up?!" She repeated. Sam gazed at her. "Okay, maybe it's better if we talk somewhere more private." They entered the nearby motel, where they were staying. The girl was nervous and Emily could almost recognize herself in her behaviour: she was about to lose it and it was very clear. "Why don't you take a sit, ugh- I don't think I got your name, sorry." Said Emily, trying to calm her down. "Ava." "Alright, Ava, why don't you sit down, I'll bring you a cup of water, okay?" I'll try to keep her calm, you ask the questions, okay? She looked at Sam. He nodded and sat down on the bed in front of Ava. "Okay, look, I know how all this sounds, but I am not insane and I am not on drugs. Okay? I am normal, and this is way, way off the map for me." Said she, nervous. Emily handed her a glass of water, which spilled a little in Ava's shaky hands. "All right, all right, just, just calm down. Okay?" "I'm trying, but-" "Okay, so, my name's Emily." Said Emily, standing next to Sam. "And he's Sam. Ava, why do you think we're in danger?" "Yeah, uh, okay, about a year ago I started having these, like, headaches, and just, nightmares, I guess. And I really didn't think much of it until I had this one dream where I saw this guy get stabbed in a parking lot." "When was this?" Asked Sam. Emily pulled out the paper Ash had given them and looked through the names to find Ava. She wasn't there. Not even a similar name. "Uh, about a month ago. But, anyway, a couple of days later, I found this." Answered Ava, pulling out a newspaper clipping from her jacket. It was the piece on Scott's death. Sam took it to analyze it closer. "I saw this guy die, days before it happened. I don't know why, I don't know, it's just for some reason, my dreams are coming true. And last night I had another one." "Let me guess, we die." Said Emily, putting away the piece of paper. "Yeah." "How did you find us?" "I saw you- you had motel stationary so I looked it up and- here I am." Emily tapped Sam on his shoulder. "Can I talk to you? Privately." She gestured towards Ava. Sam nodded and they moved into the bathroom. "What?!" He asked, impatient. "She's not on the list." "And?" "I don't like this, what if she's lying?" "Emily, she's most likely just as scared as we are- Look." He said, seeing how his sister was growing more nervous. He put both hands on his shoulder. "Maybe we got the criteria wrong. I mean, we have very loose information, maybe-" "I'm not saying don't listen to her, I'm saying be careful!" "Okay, I'll be careful!" Sam said, impatient. Then, he hurriedly and nervously left the bathroom. They found Ava trying to nervously close her jacket, getting ready to leave. "I'm sorry, I never should have come, I'll just-" "No, no- It's okay, we believe you." Intervened Sam as Emily also re-emerged from the bathroom, nervous. Ava stopped. "You do?" “Yeah, of course you- you must be one of us.” Sam pointed at him and Emily. “Sorry, one of- one of who?” “One of the psychics. Like us. Look, Ava, I have visions too, all right? So we're connected.” “Okay, so, you're nuts. That's great.” Ava rolled her eyes, looking even more nervous than she previously did. “That’s a way to put it.” Said Emily, sarcastically making fun of Sam. He scowled at her. “Listen, did your mother happen to die in a house fire?” He asked. “No, my mother lives in Palm Beach!” Aaaand the plot thickens… Well done, Sam. Give me a break, I’m trying to find out the truth! He quickly gestured, dismissing her. Yeah, doing a great job, champ. You think you can get her to not run away and call the cops on us? I thought you wanted to find out what’s happening! I do, but- No, you know what, Dean is right, you-

“What’s happening?” Ava’s voice brought both of them back to reality. “What is this, some kind of… twins sign language?” With a hard scowl, Emily promised Sam the conversation was not over.

A whole later, Ava begged them to leave. “Listen, why don’t you just leave town? Please? Before you blow up?” “Not happening.” Exhaled Emily, who was aggressively making coffee in the motel’s kitchenette to blow off some steam. “Oh, god, why not?” “Ava, there’s something going on here. There might be other people with our abilities, so to call them, out there.” “We might be part of something.” Added Sam. That seemed to upset Ava even more, something Emily didn’t think was possible. “Okay. you know what?” Ava stood up. “Screw you, buddy. Okay? Because I'm a secretary from Peoria and I'm not part of anything! Okay? Do you see this?” Ava showed her hand, where she was wearing an engagement ring. “I am getting married in eight weeks. I am supposed to be at home addressing invitations, which I am way behind on, by the way. But instead, I drove out here to save your weirdo ass. But if you just want to stay here and die, fine. Me? I'm due back on Planet Earth.” “Don't you want to know why this is happening?” Asked Sam. “I mean, don't these visions scare the hell out of you? Because if you walk out that door right now you might never know the truth, Ava.”

The girl looked at him intensely for a second, then turned to Emily, who did not bother giving her any display of emotion. She didn’t like the idea of involving someone who knew so little in a matter that complicated and potentially dangerous. Ava sighed and left. Sam tried to stop her, but Emily talked to him telepathically once more. Let her go, Sam. Let her have the normal life we’ve always wanted.

Ava had left two hours before and yet, little to nothing had moved in the motel room. Emily had finished making coffee, handed a cup to Sam and they both resumed their research in silence. “I do want to know what’s happening.” Said Emily, a while later. “I just don’t think we should involve anybody else. Not like that.” “We could have used her help, Emily!” Sam closed his laptop shut. “Her help? She was scared to death, Sam!” She tried to resume her reading but more thoughts came up. “Also what, I’m not enough help? You need a random girl?” “I never said that.” Emily exhaled, nervous. “Didn’t need to.” “Alright, let’s talk about this. Why do you-” Sam trailed off. “What? Sam?” Asked Emily, finally closed her book. She was expecting Sam trying to shrink her as he usually would, but he didn’t. The glimpse of an idea lit up in his eyes. “I got an idea.”

[sinnabonka]

If you wish hard enough

Dean’s never been one to expect gifts from anyone, let alone God himself, but today he's gotten the best gift he could ever wish for, on AO3

Dean wakes up to a gentle caress on his cheek. It feels nothing like Miracle's wet slimy wake up call that's become a part of his daily morning routine, and he jolts, hands scavenging the sheets for his gun.

The emptiness under the pillow makes Dean’s guts flip, but his mind keeps searching for options. He remembers there’s a pen knife hidden in his boot under the bed, a demon blade in the jacket hanging on the doorknob, plus, there is always a lamp on the nightstand he could effectively fling.

Instead, running the numbers, he decides first to shed some light onto the scene, and paws his way to the switch and flips it.

He winces when the white dim light floods the room.

As his eyes refocus, he blinks, mouth falling open. Swallowing, his throat clenches around the fragment of a sound ready to escape. His fists ball on the comforter on both sides of his thighs as his stomach careens into the endless and weightless feeling of falling.

The light is weak, the outlines it draws are smudged and blurry.

“Hello, Dean.”

The room floor tilts like a ship deck in a storm, and Dean finds himself grasping on solid surfaces of the furniture in a rushed attempt to get out of the bed. His lungs ache at the lack of air to fill them up.

Dean makes one unsure step, then another. His knees buckle, but with the last ounce of strength he forces himself to stay upright.

He reaches out to what has to be a ghost, because what else can it be, and as he does, his fingers are trembling. A hopeful thought struggles, drowning in the white noise inside his skull.

And then there’s a touch.

“Cas.”

Dean chokes on the word, the one he kept whispering in the middle of the night for the last few months trying to speak it into existence. The name he was too broken and hurt to say out loud knowing the sound of it would defeat him if he did. The name he was sure he was never meant to say again looking into those familiar blue eyes, now staring back at him, expecting.

“Cas,” he repeats, finally finding the solid ground. His voice is low and trembling, but unlike all the times he’s been sobbing it half asleep, his voice is not hollow anymore. It may be a bit too emotional than Dean cares to admit.

“Hello,” the ghost repeats with an unsure smile.

“Hey,” Dean says back.

It’s just a moment before an unknown force pushes him forward. His hands fly, touching, grasping, pulling in. Dean abruptly exhales as the air gets punched out of him in a single moment when their chests collapse against each other.

“Cas,” he whispers, burying his face into the crack of Cas’ neck.

The wrinkled fabric of the trench coat under his palm feels real, so does the warm, soft skin under the pressure of his cheek and the hand slipping up to rest across his back in comforting circles.

Please be real. He squeezes his eyes shut and allows a single loud sob escape his lungs.

“I’m here,” says Cas, but Dean is not sure if he hears it or feels the vibration of the voice, pressing too hard to the source of it. “I’m right here, Dean. It’s alright now.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again. I thought the Empty…”

“Some things are beyond their control,” Cas says with a smile, before pulling away.

“But why?” Dean shakes his head at the way the question sounds and asks instead: "How?”

“Jack says hi,” Cas smiles knowingly.

It’s a short moment of silence between them, a moment of long-awaited comfort and relief, and Dean’s afraid to spoil it with words. He leans in closer and lets both his hands rest on Cas’ shoulders. He catches himself thinking that if he lets go, looks away or blinks too slowly, Cas is going to disappear, dissolve into nothingness, leaving him alone in the dim light of the bedroom.

He slowly shakes his head, staring into Cas’ eyes, as if gathering the fuel for his own bravery. He clears his throat before speaking up.

“I need to say something,” he starts, each word weighed and measured. “Last time you bailed on me and didn’t give me a chance to, so now I’m gonna jump straight to the...”

“Dean, I…”

“Goddammit, Cas, let me finish. I’m not the talking kind, you know that. This one is long due.” He clears his throat again, though it’s nothing physical he can simply cough out. Dean tries again: “I need to say it, okay? I never thought I’d get a chance, I’m still not sure I’m not daydreaming over a book or something.”

Cas looks as if he was about to interrupt him again, but never does.

“I promised myself that if I ever see you again, it would be the first thing I say, okay? No maybe laters, no tomorrows, just here, now, a’right? Last time it took Thee Death literally knocking at the door for one of us to speak up.” Dean smiles nervously. “That’s not happening again.”

Cas’ eyebrows raise, but he stays respectfully silent.

“I’m not losing you again, you hear me? So you gotta cut this self-devotion-take-me-instead crap. From now on, none of that. Clear?”

Cas nods, not sure if he still is not allowed to speak.

“Good,” Dean says with a dead serious expression etched across his face.

His heart is loud inside his chest, the even thuds echoing through his temples. He can’t think of what he’s doing even for a split second or he’ll find a thousand and one excuses not to. And he can’t afford it, not this time. His hand lands on the back of Cas’ neck and he inches closer, suddenly short of breath.

“Dean...”

“Shut up,” he huffs, freezing for a moment with his eyes glued to Cas’ mouth. He licks his own lips, he curses silently, and comes the rest of the way in one movement.

When their lips meet, Dean shakily exhales and sinks into the kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers against Cas’ mouth, as if just hearing it was not enough, as if Cas had to taste the sincerity of those words to believe them.

“I love you,” he repeats into the kiss, and he misses the moment when Cas’ hands wrap around him and press them together firmly.

“I love you, dumbass,” he smirks, “and I am not losing you again. You hear me?”

“Of course,” Cas answers.

It takes them another few minutes before they break away. Breathless, blushed, they look at each other with unmistakable fondness.

“What time is it?” Cas asks suddenly.

Dean looks over his shoulder on the clock, but for a moment can’t make out the numbers jumping under his blurry vision.

“Ten past midnight,” he says finally, and follows with, “Why? Gotta be home before you turn into a pumpkin?”

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Cas says, instead of reflecting on the joke, and plants another quick kiss on Dean’s lips. “Jack asked to wish you a happy birthday, too, and to remind you that if you wish hard enough for something, it’s sure to come true. I guess it was him…”

“Yeah,” Dean interrupts, his face warming up, “Yeah, I know what that's about.”

He rests his forehead against Cas’, eyes squeezed shut, and thinks of how it took him forty two years to finally take his first full breath.

He's never been one to expect gifts from anyone, let alone God himself, but today he's gotten the best gift he could ever wish for.

“I love you too,” Cas whispers, and Dean’s heart sings to it.

He smiles at the thought of how later today, when he will be blowing out candles on his birthday cake, he will have nothing left to wish for.

[starlingflight]

Hi! First of all, I wanna said that you are an incredible writer, I have read all of your work on AO3 and the way you capture Ginny is amazing and beyond words. I was wondering if you had write any missing scene of harry and ginny during OOtp?? Also I read in one of your reviews (in " Fallin' All In You") that you cut Ginny-Hermionie friendship momemts because of pace, I was wondering if you were planning to post it!!! 🤞🤞🤞

Hi!

Thank you so much, that's really lovely of you to say! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing!

Im working on a fic of Ginny & Hermione friendship moments, so that is coming one day (hopefully soon!).

Here is an OotP missing moment written just for you:

*

The mass break out of Azkaban seemed to have filled the D.A. with a fierce new determination. Spells flew across the Room of Requirement with a speed and ferocity Harry hadn’t seen before and it was all he could do to make quick circuits of the room making corrections and suggesting minor improvements.

Seamus had taken to Harry’s instructions surprisingly quickly, seemingly determined to show he belonged in the D.A. after his delay in joining the rest of them. The rate with which he was shooting impediment jinxes in Dean’s direction left little doubt in Harry’s mind that he would catch up with the rest of the group quickly.

Happy that Seams was settling in well, Harry continued his journey around the duelling pairs, pausing to correct Susan’s stance and Terry’s pronunciation as he went.

A low moaning sound reached his ears as he approached Ginny who had been duelling with Michael Corner since the session had started and seemed to have been handling herself well. Harry sped up, bypassing Neville and Luna entirely in his haste to reach her.

The sight that greeted him as he sidled past Neville was not what he’d been expecting. Ginny was stood, back straight, arms crossed with a severely unimpressed expression upon her face. Michael, on the other hand, was doubled over, rivers of bright yellow pus squirting from his nose and pooling upon the stone floor at his feet.

“I can’t believe you!” Michael cried. His voice sounded uncharacteristically thick thanks to the copious amounts of liquid spilling from his nostrils.

Ginny looked thoroughly unaffected by her boyfriend’s plight. She shrugged unconcernedly, twirling her wand in her hand as she did so. “Maybe, if you’d bothered to counter attack you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Michael glared furiously at her as he tilted his head back, trying desperately to stem the flow still gushing from his nostrils. “I was trying to be a nice –“

“A nice boyfriend would help me practice duelling properly!” Ginny hissed through gritted teeth, cutting off Michael’s sentence before he could finish explaining himself.

Harry stepped cautiously forward, feeling it best he intervene before Michael lost any more liquid from his body and collapsed from dehydration. “Everything alright?” He asked, fighting to keep his amused smile from his face.

“We’re fine,” Ginny said quickly, glancing at Harry for only a moment before turning her attention back to Michael.

“Can you stop this?” He demanded of her, also paying Harry little mind.

Ginny shrugged once more. “I think I’ve forgotten the countercurse,” she said coolly.

Michael shrieked loudly in indignation, the hand that wasn’t clutching his nose curled into a fist around his wand. Ginny finally caught Harry’s eye and there was nothing he could do to conceal his smirk any longer, nor, it seemed, could she.

“I can help!” Hannah called. She was hurrying towards them having evidently seen the commotion from where she was practicing with Ernie.

Michael turned to her, groaning in impatience as he did so and Hannah set to work on his face with her wand.

Harry, taking advantage of Michael’s distraction, stepped closer to Ginny. “I don’t remember teaching you that one," he murmured close to her ear.

Ginny’s smile widened radiantly. “I’ve been reading up in my spare time,” she said, a faint rosy blush crept across her cheeks.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. “Are my teaching skills that dreadful?”

Ginny shook her head, a mischievous glint set her chocolate-coloured eyes alight. “You’ll receive the results of my evaluation in two weeks, Professor Potter.”

Her impression of Umbridge’s voice was so perfect that Harry froze for a moment, expecting to see her toad-like face appear over Ginny’s shoulder. Ginny, having received the reaction she so clearly wanted, burst into peals of laughter.

Harry’s responding laughter was cut off almost as quickly as it had begun. Michael – no longer dripping pus – looked sharply at both of them. “What’s so funny?”

Harry was saved from answering as Cho called for his attention from the opposite end of the room, it looked as though both she and Marietta were struggling with the proper wand movements for a shield charm.

“I’d better go,” Harry said, flashing a final smile in Ginny’s direction. “It seems I’m not really needed over here.”

“I don’t know,” Ginny responded. “I could use a proper duelling partner.”

“I’ll let you know if I develop a burning desire to have pus shooting out of my nose,” Harry said through a chuckle.

Ginny winked at him as he turned away from her and hurried in Cho’s direction.

[bi-bard]

Chick Flick Moments - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Chick Flick Moments

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 2,363 words

Warning(s): violence, cussing, Sam embarrassing himself, spoilers for any movie/show listed in the author's note

Summary: (Season 11) Gabriel takes a break from hiding to teach (Y/n) and Sam to forgive each other.

Author's Note: I had so much fun putting this request together! Also, if I remember correctly, this reader wanted to remain anonymous.

Here are links to all the scenes that inspired parts of this imagine:

1 (Princess Bride), 2 (8x12 Criminal Minds; can't find just the scene to link), 3 (Moulin Rouge), 4 (The Notebook), 5 (The 10 Things I Hate About You), 6 (Gilmore Girls), 7 (La La Land)

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

-----------------------------------

I rolled my eyes as I walked through the bunker.

Sam was still ranting about the most recent hunt. I was just tired of listening to it. Dean had long since given up trying to control his brother, who had shown no sign of listening to anyone.

"You can't just throw yourself into every single enemy," Sam yelled. "Fun fact, you're not Superman!"

"Oh my god," I finally, turning around. I had been halfway through the library at this point. Dean continued through the bunker, ignoring us. "I ran up to one extra vamp because you were about to get your throat ripped out! Yes, I put myself in danger but it was to save you!"

"Why are you so desperate to be a hero," he asked.

"Why are you so pissy that I saved you," I shouted back.

I let out a yell before turning and leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed," I shouted from down the hall. "Maybe you'll be nicer in the morning! You're welcome for saving your ass!"

I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut. I changed quickly, throwing my old clothes into the corner before curling up on my bed. My emotions got the better of me. I started crying into my pillow.

Imagine saving the man you secretly loved... and then he got mad at you about it.

I fell asleep crying that night.

--time skip--

I shot awake, cringing at how bright it was.

I looked around, letting my eyes adjust to the light.

I was on a hill. I was on a hill, lying in the grass with the sun shining on my face. This is not good.

I stood up and did a circle to look around the long stretches of grass. Nothing looked even slightly familiar.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered.

I decided that the best option would be to try to climb down and find a person... somewhere.

I was just about to start making my way down the hill when I felt a hand grab me.

Out of pure fear, I grabbed the person and pulled them from behind me. The person went flying down the hill.

"(Y/n)," I heard Sam's voice yell as he rolled down the hill.

I put my hand over my mouth. He soon stopped rolling and then he stood up, scrambling to pull the black mask off of his face. I sighed, dropping my hand when I saw he was alright.

"Sam," I called.

"Your instinct is to throw some down a hill," Sam asked.

"When a masked man tries to grab me, definitely," I replied. "Fun fact, Sam, I can actually defend myself."

He gave me a sarcastic smile. I shot it right back to him.

Sam looked down at his outfit before sighing and shrugging at me. He had just started to move back up the hill when my visions went dark.

I opened my eyes a few moments later.

What had been an open field was now a dark warehouse or factory. I saw Sam across from me, but also a group of people behind him. I recognized them. They were characters from Criminal Minds, a guilty pleasure I watched when we weren't hunting.

I tried to figure out what was happening.

Then, I became all too aware of the barrel of a gun pressing into my neck.

"No," Sam yelled.

It clicked.

Sam was supposed to be Spencer. I was Maeve. This was Zugzwang.

My heart dropped.

"Wait, please, don't," Sam yelled as the gun pressed harder on my neck.

"Sam, shut up," I snapped.

"Me for (Y/n)," he shouted.

"You would do that," Diane- the unsub of that episode- asked.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"No," I yelled. "Sam, shut up."

"You shut up," Diane growled at me.

"One difference between me and her...," I growled back.

I grabbed the gun, pushing it forward, away from my neck. The bullet she tried to fire hit the brick wall. I turned, bringing an elbow down on her arm. Her hand dropped the gun into my grasp. I pointed it toward her.

"...I'm not scared of a simple gun."

The others walked over and arrested her. I looked at Sam.

"If you continued, she would've killed herself, which would've killed me," I explained. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I watch this show when we aren't hunting."

He walks over, going to hug me before the scene changes again.

"Holy...," I trailed off as I looked around.

Around us, we could see the tops of roofs and a beautiful night sky. It was almost a dreamy setting.

"Where are we now," Sam asked.

"Only the great Moulin Rouge," Sam and I both twirled around to face... Gabriel. "I know, I know... I'm not dead, anyway!"

I rolled my eyes.

"You two need to learn a lesson," he pointed at us.

"It's like back in 2010," I mumbled. "Play our roles to get out. Probably why we were pulled out of the last two."

"You'll fall into them naturally, I promise," Gabriel smirked. "And yes. Stop ignoring the plotline."

"Alright... sure, I was gonna get shot for your crappy game," I snapped sarcastically.

Then, he was gone. I rolled my eyes.

"So, what are the roles," Sam asked as I walked around the top of the elephant.

"Well, Christian and Satine," I pointed between us. "Maeve and Spencer. The Princess Bride and Westley. It's all romance."

"Why," Sam scrunched his face up.

"Because Gabe wants to get his rocks off," I said sarcastically, "I don't know, Sam!"

I walked down the stairs of the elephant. It was gorgeous here. It was just as vibrant as the movie made it look.

"Wow," I look back at Sam. "This is awesome."

I chuckled and nodded.

"What seen is it?"

"The Elephant Love Medley," I said. "Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman sing this mash-up of famous love songs as his character tries to convince her that there is nothing more important than love."

"I'm not gonna sing," Sam shook his head.

"I was not gonna ask you too," I chuckled. "I've heard you sing."

"Rude."

I just shrugged.

I looked around at the room, trying to figure out how to play these roles without the singing.

"Wait," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the stairs.

"What is it," Sam asked as we made it to the top.

"At the end of the medley, Christian and Satine are dancing and they walk out onto this field of clouds and are held up in the sky."

"What-"

"This whole movie feels like a fever dream the first time you watch it."

"Come on," Sam held a hand out to me.

"Can you dance?"

"Not well," he chuckled. "The role didn't say I needed to be good."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him.

I tried to lead his steps and laughed as he stumbled into a pattern.

"Come on," I moved back so I could grab only one hand.

I led him a few steps forward and onto- what seemed to be- steps in the clouds. I let out an excited laugh when it worked. Sam looked at me and grinned at my excitement.

As soon as got to the top of the steps... it was gone.

We were in the middle of the street now.

"Aw, that was just mean," I mumbled. I glared at Sam when I heard him laughed.

He held his hands up jokingly before extending one toward me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"I know what movie this is," he shrugged. I motioned for him to continue explaining. He walked over, hand still held out to me, "The Notebook. Noah and Allie dance in the street. So... will you dance with me? Even without the sequence where we dance in the clouds."

I bit my lip as I smiled.

I took his hand and let him pull me into the street. I laughed as I stumbled into his chest.

We fell into the scene naturally.

Sam held one of my hands in his and held my waist with the other. I placed my free hand on his shoulder. I looked up at him. It felt strange that we so casually fell into the scene but I was happy.

Sam jokingly twirled me around before pulling me back to his chest. I closed my eyes and chuckled.

"What," he asked.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I just never saw you as such a romantic."

"Well, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my reputation," he said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes.

Sam spun the two of us in a circle before going to dip me. I didn't think I'd ever get to experience something like this. It always just felt like something I should forget about as a hunter. I was starting to forget why I was so angry with Sam in the first place.

I barely noticed that Sam was leaning in before the scene around me changed.

I was on a football field.

I looked around.

There was no sign of Sam.

"Crap," I mumbled, trying to figure out where to look first.

Then, there was a voice going over the field's speakers.

"You're just too good to be true... can't take my eyes off of you..."

I looked around toward the stands to see Sam walking with a mic. Can't sing, my ass.

"You'd be like heaven to touch... I wanna hold you so much"

"Oh my god," I muttered.

"At long last love has arrived... And I thank God I'm alive... You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off of you."

I tried to bite back my laugh. He shrugged at me with an embarrassed smile and stepped into the actual stands.

We both jumped when the marching band started playing. I looked to see Gabriel smirking and leading their march.

Sam and I shrugged at each other. He continued on with the act.

Now, Sam Winchester pretending to be Patrick in "10 Things I Hate About You" was a treat... and was exactly what you imagined it would be.

He was almost stumbling down the steps as he continued on with the act. I was laughing hysterically by the time I saw the security guards starting to run in.

"Sam," I yelled, pointing behind him.

"Crap," I heard through the mic (which made me almost double-over in laughter) as he tried to take off running.

As soon as he was grabbed, the scene changed.

We both took a deep breath when we realized we were sitting together in a car.

"Thank god," Sam mumbled.

"That was a great performance, by the way," I said, still chuckling.

"Shut up," he muttered, laughing along with me. We fell silent after a minute. "So... what scene is this?"

"I have no idea," I replied.

"It's Gilmore Girls, dumbasses," we heard Gabriel's voice but saw no sign of him. "Season 1, Episode 16... absolute idiots."

"Didn't peg him for a Gilmore Girls fan," I said. Sam laughed.

"Me neither."

We fell silent again.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking over at me. "You were right. You can defend yourself and you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry for being such a dick about it."

I grinned, "Thanks... I forgive you. I know you were just worried about me."

Sam smiled back.

"I... umm...," Sam looked down for a moment, clearing his throat and collecting his thoughts. "I just... I love you."

My heart leaped up into my throat. I blinked at him a few times and forced a chuckle out. Which was the wrong response but I panicked. Hunters... we could face the devil but emotions were a no-no.

"(Y/n)," Sam's smile dropped slowly when he realized I wasn't responding.

I was just about to respond when the scene changed again.

Sam was gone again and I was on a city street.

"Dammit," I muttered.

I ran down the street, turning the corner. I looked at the wall of the building I was by. Was this a jazz club?

I walked through the door and was guided to a table so I could sit down and watch the performance.

"La La Land," I said.

Sam and I watched this together. Dean had gone to bed. We weren't tired and just turned this movie on because it looked like it was mostly happy.

Big dance numbers, beautiful effects... and the epilogue that made me hide tears from Sam.

I looked at the stage. Sam was sitting there, wearing a suit, looking at the audience nervously. He hesitantly reached toward the piano. It was like it was a prerecorded track. It sounded just like the movie.

I smiled.

I just wanted to talk to him.

Soon the performance ended.

I stood up and started walking over, seeing Sam starting to walk out.

I grinned at him, "Sam-"

He cut me off by cupping the sides of my face and kissing me softly. I touched his sides lightly, smiling against his lips. It was... magic. Absolute magic.

Then, I shot awake, back in my bed in the bunker.

The game was over. Thank God.

"(Y/n)," I heard yell through the bunker hall.

I ran into the hall and ran toward his room.

We stopped as soon as we saw each other.

"Please tell me that wasn't a dream," I said. He shook his head, smiling widely at me.

I ran over, pulling him down to kiss him again. It was softer than our last kiss and I loved it. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. I buried my hands through his hair.

"Woah, what did I miss," we pulled away when we heard Dean.

I could basically feel Sam chuckle against my lips before he moved to look at his brother. I turned around in Sam's arm.

"A chick flick moment," Sam answered.

"Alright," Dean gave us a weird look before leaving without another word.

I looked back at Sam with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned and leaned in to kiss me softly again.

-----------------------------------

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[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

The One Where Jensen Ackles Confirmed Cockles in 2016(????) No. Seriously. For real.

this is a DOOZY. strap in folks.

DISCLAIMER: this is chock full of rps. if you are against cockles/jenmish in any way, this post is not for you. however, if you’re like me, ummmmm...

alright. so. we are REALLY in it now, cockles truthers. and make no mistake, i DO NOT want to undersell the significance of what we have found on this glorious day in 2021.

BUT HEY! DISCLAIMER FIRST, THOUGH IT SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING! do not EVER bring this to jensen and misha’s attention. do not comment disrespectful things on social media. when cons/panels start again, don’t ask them questions about it. ever!!! that’s super weird, for one thing, and for two, they won’t give you the answer you want anyway! so, yeah. just be decent, y’all. let’s continue. 

so my dear mutual @green-blue-heller made this post today and i promptly lost my mind. in it, they link this video:

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as far as i can tell, it’s from VegasCon 2016 but was only unprivated on january 24, 2020(dean winchester’s birthday??? wow ok) for some reason, and we have overlooked it until now. to whoever it was that posted it, THANK you for my reason for being and this delayed gratification five years later. anyway, let’s get into it.

right off the bat, those expressions in the thumbnail kind of tell you all you need to know about what we’re venturing into. i have to thank BOTH jensen AND j*red for being ridiculously transparent. i mean...j*red purposefully avoiding eye contact with jensen and looking at the ceiling with his eyebrows raised sky high? jensen hiding his face in his hands, smiling and blushing like a fool, the misha face™ & grin???

so let’s break down what happens with timestamps and everything.

so! i looked up what the question was, i scoured through the entire Vegas Con video, and here it is:

‘My question is for Jensen and Jared. You guys are both happily married, and I noticed that many people had a hard time explaining how they know their significant other is the one. The one they want to spend the rest of their life with, the one that they want to be with, and so, I wanted to ask you guys, how did you know that your current- who you’re with now(audience laughter cuts the rest of the question off and it’s unintelligible)’ ….i’m solidly guessing that the end of that question boils down to ‘was the one’. (....i...uhhhh....have some thoughts on how this question affected jensen, and i will be going into them later.)

Jared: *laughs* Jared, Jensen. When did you first meet your future ex-wives?

*both of them laugh*

Jared: I’m just kidding-I get what you’re trying to say and thank you, um...I, uh, I guess my current wife, uh-

*both laugh again*

Jensen: (sarcastically) Let’s start with her.

Jared: (repeats) Let’s start with her. I, uh, I...you said something kinda, uh, amazing in your question, which is that a lot of people have a tough time or a difficult time explaining to their significant others or to themselves what it is. And I guess I feel that I have no way to possibly explain it to myself or to her... I remember that I had been in a relationship and that I was single and I was like ‘I am not interested in getting in a relationship’ and then she and I went on a date and I was like, ‘I can’t go anywhere else. I’m not interested.’ So, that was kinda what, um, what started it for me *clears throat loudly* Uh. Yeah, I just feel like (searching for words) she makes me a better person-there are a lot of people that make you a better person, and so that’s not enough, I don’t think-or maybe it is, who knows-um...I don’t know, I can’t really...if I could explain, I’d be a poet.

here’s where things start to get interesting. before jared says ‘If I could explain, I’d be a poet,’ Jensen’s face looks like this:

stoic, thoughtful, composed. and then AFTER jared says that his face makes THIS little journey:

go watch it for yourself. this man is ridiculous. in terms of body language? he gazes up and AWAY from jared. it is a private thought, he is not sharing in jared’s joke with him, if at all. it is his own personal musings that make his face LIGHT up like that. this fool looks lovestruck!!! this fool is lovestruck!!!

now, i think it goes without saying, but there is an obvious cockles reason that springs to mind for this reaction. (hint: misha is a poet. that’s it, that’s the reason.) i don’t think jared intentionally said this with misha in mind, but jensen’s thoughts IMMEDIATELY went there. whether or not this is because he was already planning on answering and hinting at his relationship with misha before jared says this, which i think he was-you can certainly see the wheels turning in jensen’s head before this moment-his brain involuntarily makes the connection and it shows in his glowing smile. after that remark...jensen’s gone. he’s whipped. and he HAS to say something about it. 

continuing from where we left off:

Jared: ...and I would love to be a poet. (thought it would be fun to mention that at this point Jensen catches what his face did and immediately looks over to Jared and WIPES the expression of his face...but it’s too late, because someone recorded it, i saw it, and now i’m writing about it five years later)

Jared: But uhh…

Jensen: (interrupting) Just tap me when you want me to take over. 

i think that jensen is simultaneously joking and is also more than ready to say what he’s been composing in his head diligently for the last thirty or so seconds. he has made up his mind, and is now ready to drop the bomb on us.

*audience laughs, Jared playfully swats at him*

Jared: Uh… *thinks in silence for a bit* It’s really difficult, it’s really difficult. She makes me feel safe, she makes me feel loved. Uh...when...I’m in a position where I don’t love myself, I know she loves me, you know, um...she’s just an awesome, awesome lady.

*audience claps*

alright! so in terms of my OWN analysis for what’s happened up until this point, the conclusion i have come to is that there was something in the question that was asked that sets jensen’s mind off about misha, and i think it was the ‘the one’ comment. if we’re putting our cockles goggles on, jensen doesn’t HAVE a ‘the one’. he resents thinking like that. i’m also very intuitive, and i get a sense that jensen is an honest person and can’t really tell a convincing lie. i mean...we all saw that horrible airbnb debacle, right? and his slip up when he accidentally confirms that misha woke up and said ‘i miss (maison)’[which how would you know that unless you were...nvm] and became a stammering mess and had to sit down and cover his face. and that misha is always the one to take the lead when it comes to denying clothes sharing, for instance. jensen has never ONCE attempted to explain that away, because i don’t think anyone would believe him, and i think he’s incapable of doing so because he’s not a dishonest person and can’t lie easily. i’m the same way, so to avoid telling a lie i always speak partial truths, and i’m 99% sure jensen is well versed in this talent as well. oh, also, just to really land my point....we all know how he feels about the finale because he can’t make himself speak well on it. he’ll gush about 15x18 and the PEOPLE BEHIND the finale, but he has not uttered one. positive. word. about the actual finale itself. i mean, we all know what he thinks about it. in his own way, he has made his rage glaringly obvious. and i think he’s doing that exact thing here, where he resents the implication that daneel is the only ‘one’ for him, because that’s simply not true, and he can’t and won’t lie about something like that. 

i watched it back again and wrote notes on jensen’s body language as he’s processing the question. here they are:

from 0:13 to 1:21, jensen: 

looks down - tenses face - searching eyes, lost in thought - jared’s comment brings him out of it but it takes a second - fidgets, adjusts clothes, looks at jared - bites the inside of his cheeks and moves tongue around his mouth(pacifying gesture) - eyes start wandering away from jared, looks down and tenses face, looks back at jared - then looks away, eyes and mind far from the panel and pondering the question itself - somewhat wistful expression, gears clearly turning in his head, lips pursed, stops reacting to what jared is saying, fingers start fidgeting, eyes have moved downward as he is lost in thought - something shifts in his brain, he looks to the ceiling, fidgets and adjusts his clothing, squints and seems to resolve an inner thought - slightly comes back down to earth with newfound resolution - and then jared’s ‘i would be a poet’ comment happens while he’s coming down from that

i mean, this obviously doesn’t necessarily mean anything huge(yet), all it shows is that this question took a lot of thinking for him. when you compare it to how jared kind of just dove in? 

anyway; so then jared’s done, he slaps jensen’s thigh to indicate it’s his turn, jensen makes THAT face you see in the thumbnail, jared’s eyebrows raise, jensen looks down and scratches his forehead, and then makes the statement of a lifetime. 

here’s the link for this next part

Jensen: Ummm..I kind of feel like there’s two types of people ..uh..in regards to marriage and the, the one. Uh, it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you. And, I kind of find myself in between both of those(...types of people). And uh, and so, it can be a scary endeavour, and it can, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, um, but I think it’s a, uh, it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey that, uh, if you’re willing to stick it out with one another, can be an amazing, beautiful thing and I’m glad that I picked the partner and the teammate that I have, so.

i’ll give you like a second to recuperate before we dig in. 

let’s start with both jared and jensen’s body language first, because it wasn’t even the words that clued me in, it was whatever the hell was going on with jared’s face. 

i really wish i could gif, but i can only attempt to convey the SPEED and VIGOUR with which jared snaps his head toward jensen. 

these pictures are objectively hilarious because you can see the entire mental journey that jared goes on. he was aloof and kind of relaxed because he was done, it’s jensen’s turn now, he’s surely not gonna out himself with this question right? and then jensen goes ahead and says ‘there are two-’ and jared instantly zones right into jensen with a look of horror on his face, that he tries to contain, but does so unsuccessfully. that is the face of a man who is internally freaking out, thought to himself ‘did he seriously just say...’ and is kind of staring at the culprit in shock and awe.

i know that’s what’s happening, because this is not the first time we’ve seen him react like this to something jensen has said. the classic head whip. a few examples, just off the top of my head:

1. ‘he has, hasn’t he?’ 

2. ‘he sounds like that in the morning’ ‘how do you know’ 

3. when he whips his head around when he notices jensen’s face(and instantly understands when he realizes it’s misha)

so yeah, i’m sure you get it by now. jared can’t really keep it off of his face. there’s no real analyzing to be done here...it’s just an obvious tell on his part. there’s no real reason for him to have reacted this way if jensen was saying something inconspicuous, is there? he would have continued to just kind of space out if jensen hadn’t just said something jarringly questionable. 

as for jensen’s body language, i can’t really tell where he’s looking from either angle of both videos i’ve seen. sometimes it seems like he’s looking straight at jared, and maybe nods at him once, but he could also(and is most likely) looking at the fan who asked the question. i don’t think there’s anything particularly telling about his body language because i think he rehearsed his answer in his head and also, he’s not shying away because he’s not lying about anything. like...everything he’s saying is true, so he’s not going to have any tells. and it’s the fact that he is TELLING THE TRUTH that is freaking jared out.

now for what he actually says. because oh my god. 

right off the bat, he says “i kind of feel like there’s two types of people..” and first off, what? what does that even mean? if you think of it in terms of ‘this is about daneel and only daneel’....isn’t this a realllyyyyy strange thing to start out with? objectively? the question that was asked to him was ‘how did you know they were the one?’ and he goes ‘actually there’s TWO types of people’ ...like, jensen never answers the question at hand. 

and then he goes “in regards to marriage and the one”. i hope i’m not the only one who noticed he said the words ‘the one’ in a resentful and kind of degrading tone? seriously, listen to it again. he seems like he’s almost mocking that sentiment. i swear i’m not making it up, it really sounds like that to me. 

and then he says “-it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you.” *NON TINHAT VERSION OF EVENTS* what he could mean, i guess, is he was both scared to be with daneel but also knew she was the one for him. which....ok. alright. *TINHAT BACK ON* first off, there’s absolutely no risk with daneel. that’s not a judgement, because i love her; it’s just true. she’s a pretty, talented, amazing woman and they are very much in love. i’m not sure what risks he’s taking there. next up: pretty strange wording then, don’t you think? idk, if it were you, and you wanted to get that point across, wouldn’t you use words like ‘she both scared me and i knew i wanted to be with her at the same time’ and NOT this convoluted mess of ‘there’s two types of people and they are both drastically different but also one and the same’? 

SECOND OF ALL, as many people have pointed out.....he never uses pronouns. this is strange. jared does. jared says gen’s name, even. and uses ‘she’ and ‘her’. jensen never once does that, he practically refuses to do so. and yes, i fully believe it is entirely intentional.

because if you look at this phrase from a cockles lens it makes more sense then if you do not. 

the one that jensen knows, unequivocally, with the utmost certainty, is the one for him, no doubts, no risks; is daneel. the one that he doesn’t know about, is scared of being with, but is willing to take that leap of faith anyway; is misha. and all of a sudden the puzzle pieces fall into place.

because he goes on to say “I kind of find myself in between both of those.” 

he doesn’t say ‘i find myself in between both of those...with her.’ nope. he’s just...in between. caught in the middle. of those two types of people. translation: of those two people. mish. dee. 

“And it can be a scary endeavour, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, but I think it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey...” 

every single one of those words can be applied to more than one person. think about it. bond(between three people). connection(between three people). friendship(between three people!!!). there’s no ‘partnership’ in here, which does only apply to two people. 

lastly, “i’m glad i picked the partner and the teammate that i have.”

ok, look. you can easily say that it’s just one person he’s talking about here! of course you can. but this is jensen ackles we’re talking about. jensen ‘rock and pebble’ ackles. jensen ‘mish. dee.’ ackles. so yes. i definitely think that ‘the partner and the teammate’ fall into this category. and i think daneel is the partner and misha is the teammate. 

to put it matter-of-factly: you simply cannot prove that this isn’t about a poly relationship. there is absolutely nothing he says that makes it obvious he is talking about one person here. because he isn’t. 

i just feel like, in the simplest terms, if this were about only daneel, that he would not be using these weird phrases that are half-hidden truths. just to compare, i watched another panel where pretty much the exact same question was asked, minus the whole ‘the one’ debacle, and, just as i suspected, it was an entirely different answer. he talks about the moment where he knew he liked her. her, specifically. says the name daneel. gushes about her. there’s no tiptoeing and weird pronoun usage and vague terminology. 

tl; dr : i think he answered the question this way because there is no ‘the one’ in his life. and he is physically incapable of leaving misha out when talking about ‘the one’ because he has TWO ‘the ones’. and he wants to answer the question to the best of his best ability, but lying is unnatural to him. he will talk about daneel at length and misha at length, but i honestly to my core don’t think you could make him choose between the two. oh! and we literally had confirmation all the way back in fucking 2016, we just never paid attention until now. so......thanks, jensen?

sorry, this got super long, but i hope i warned you well enough.