#i’m having to tell myself i have more faith in SPN

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e9 home (w. eric kripke)

(this is a rewatch, so spoilers abound)

if you've heard me talk about watching stuff for any length of time you probably know i.. struggle with watching things. can't engage, then i'm thinking and that's the last thing i need 🥴 and i get all up in my head about things that i enjoyed watching, or at least had a habit of watching. and it's like pulling teeth getting back to it. ye olde mental block has reared its ugly head with spn now too. so i'm forcing myself to do it, i know that's what i need sometimes. why must my brain fight me on everything??

part of stalling ended up being this project where i tried to collect every instance of family photos in the series, spurred by the photos in the lawrence house basement here

confess to throwing this in lightroom because all i saw was a skin blob of dean and could not figure out what was going on. lying on his stomach explains it. it's a pretty shot of sam, when you can see more than black

always a little surprising seeing a brand name on this show, doesn't happen often. still with the skateboard chest thing for desktop background

1x09 / 1x12

like that plaintive puppy face he makes in faith (have a screenshot of that one in my little painting wip ideas for ages)

SAM No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right? DEAN I don’t know. SAM What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!

a) poor sammy b) i dunno if it was the writing or the acting or what but this felt clunky

DEAN All right, just slow down, would ya? I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when…. SAM When what? DEAN When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?

admit i snorted the second time i watched this (rewound for sam's part), it's just very over the top. and they are collectively in love with jackles's pretty+sad face. sam gets up, says we gotta do it 🥺 long, slow focus on dean.. jaw clench.. i know we do. it's a good face, i get it. especially when he gets all wet eyed

thing i do like about this scene are that sam is avoiding and dean pushes him and forces him to explain what's going on. could have used that energy a lot more in subsequent seasons.

pretty sure the first time i watched this i also paused and cranked up the brightness to see if sam's hand was behind on the seat lol ridiculous

JENNY That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie. But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy. Sari, this is Sam and Dean. They used to live here.

dude, this is so funny. one of my kids stopped drinking juice and i seriously was concerned that he could end up with scurvy because he has such a limited selection of stuff he'll consume so i had to find vitamins he would 100% like. NO SCURVY UP IN HERE, BITCHES

sam's so fired up about this maybe being yellow eyes he's practically stepping in front of dean while they're walking, cracked me up. meanwhile dean's freaked out about sam's visions being real, understandably so

ok so we go from sam ranting to him chilling out, per dean's instruction, and padalecki's voice is a lot lower. so i wonder if that's part of what makes it feel forced and weird to me? like in the scene before this one. hmm. or maybe he's just still working on his approach/delivery. gonna be keeping my eye on you, sir

DEAN Not much. I remember the fire…the heat. And then I carried you out the front door. SAM You did? DEAN Yeah, what, you never knew that? SAM No.

i feel like that would be a big part of family lore, if nothing else dean would want to tell sam about that. a point of pride, something to lord over him, etc. anyway, it's a nice moment regardless if i don't find it super believable personally :p

some more padalecki crispy Rs on "figure" (a lot in this episode) and other weird voice modulations from jared. and man, dean got emotional so much more in earlier seasons. i imagine it was a character choice how he kind of hardened throughout the seasons, kept himself in check better. but sneaking away from sam for a minute, sounding like he's on the verge of tears calling john for help is so vulnerable (and can't let sam know he's scared/lost) and john still of course thinks it's safer/better to stay no contact

also i don't particularly like the music when sam and dean are talking (generic ~emotional~ music), but i do moreso the music on the phone call. it reminds me a smidge of some score from the magicians (which i don't think i talked about much, but i enjoyed and was very distinctive). this is a lennertz episode

ah yes, and the dreaded hand in the garbage disposal moment. unplug it before you jam your arm down there, bro. of course, if it's ghosts, it doesn't need power, right? anyway. i could go my whole life without any more of that final destination type nonsense :p

ah, missouri!! i wish they could have had her be a recurring character. one of my favorites. sam and i both gleefully enjoyed her reading dean to filth

SAM Okay. So, our dad –- when did you first meet him? MISSOURI He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say…I drew back the curtains for him.

really thought he knew about the life from mary being a hunter but skimming his wiki article and apparently not

also forgot about the baby getting trapped in the fridge. huh, and a little demon growl sound effect mixed in there too. at least it gets resolved quickly, stressed me out

DEAN What are they doing here? MISSOURI They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected. SAM I don’t understand. MISSOURI This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.

far as i can see, this and swap meat are the only episodes with poltergeists and it's also not terribly clear how it's different from other vengeful spirits but there we go

everyone loves to choke out sam

okay i totally talked shit about that DISPUTED HUG in this episode and have to admit, it was actually a brief embrace of the almost dead sorts after dean gets the lamp cord off sam's neck. which is what made me start grabbing all the hugs to make gifs of them. which i'm sure has been done tenfold but sure why not. anyway, i got like. halfway done with that. since i just finished a painting, maybe i'll pick that little project up

see missouri was after dean a bunch but if she'd come back, she coulda knocked some sense into our sam when he was being an ass too! like bobby but more charismatic to me personally :p

carrying two kids like that down the stairs is no easy feat, friends. sam to the rescue! and it's nice little reciprocity that he gets to carry the kids away from the (ghost on) fire since dean did it for him, twice

i know it would be faster and less dramatic but dean really maybe should have broken a window instead of chopping through her door 🤪

funny seeing her and hearing her talk, because we got to know her quite well in the later seasons so her voice is so familiar. but used to seeing her look a good bit older

that made... very little sense LOL. she shows up, she wipes out the bad guy poltergeist or whatever??? and then she's gone? so she what, has been attached to the house for 22 years and just now got to go to heaven?? (and her saying i'm sorry to sam, could be sorry for dying, sorry for making the deal that got me killed and you whatever'd by azazel, etc - i wonder how much of the canon long game story was determined by this point -- all of which, none of what happened was her fault)

MISSOURI That boy…he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn’t sense his own father, I have no idea. JOHN Mary’s spirit –- do you really think she saved the boys? MISSOURI I do. John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won’t you go talk to your children? JOHN I want to. You have no idea how much I wanna see ‘em. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I know the truth.

SLAP HIM, MISSOURI! so i think the regular justification for john not being in contact with them is that it's not safe because the demons could get to them through him or something? but this, if there were a time for the truth this is it, would be indicating to me that no, he's just too hot on the trail of the revenge quest to do it. yet another reason early on we're set up to not like him. his explanation makes no sense to me.

this would also be a prime mushy music moment, but nope! i know it happens in 2x1 after my little investigation so i'm very curious if/when it shows up in s1

(wiki)

Missouri was originally meant to appear in the season one finale, 1.22 Devil's Trap, but scheduling conflicts with actress Loretta Devine forced the production to create a new character, Bobby Singer, as a fill in.

if only... like, bobby was great in that he was introduced as someone who had a history with the boys as kids, and that definitely was a nice layer of backstory, and really great for them to have a better parental figure. so i think it's not that i take issue with bobby per se, i just never connected with jim beaver. any of my fondness came directly from feelings they had, so i grieved when he died because of how it impacted them more than about the character himself. what would have been actually great is rufus's actor, steven williams, could have been bobby. because now that man has charisma to spare, damn. ah well.

[inkedmyths]

S1: E12 "Faith"

Brought to you by Crepe bribing me with Flight Rising money

[ Kayla asks if it was worth it to sell your soul to capitalism. Crepe said yes. I agree. I may have to endure on but now I have more money for my dragons. This will, unfortunately, always work on me. ]

Cuz you gotta have faith-uh faith-uh faith-uh

Oh we're starting out with the Winchesters? No mysterious deatb if some random person?

[ Kayla interjects with Carry On My Wayward Son. I get flashbacks to playing it on repeat when I initially began this journey. ]

Oooough closeeeet Dean I'm sure you're scared of that

[ Kayla asks Crepe if Dean does any homoeroticism in S1 aside from being too happy about getting pinned to a car. Crepe says no. This does not matter to me, I will make the joke anyways. ]

There are children! Hello children!

Ew what is that

UH Dean buddy that canNOT be healthy

HOSPITAL

HEART ATTACK???

Hi Dean! You look like shit!

:(

Dean you are too chill with your mortality but also Sam is WAY too not chill about it

JOHN WINCHESTER PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE. BITCH

Sam. Sam no

I mean I know Dean is still sround for however many fucking seasons but

DEAN DID YOU BREAK OUT OF THE HOSPITAL. MORON

Why are you both stupid

[ Kayla says this is the parentified child vs child he parentified effect. Which. Yeah fair. ]

Dean: Sam what kinda crazy religion place are you bringing me to

DEAN STOP FLIRTING WITH EVERY LADY YOU MEET. DUMBASS BITCH

[ Kayla says that he's a whore and to leave him alone. That the sluttiest thing a man can do is be an older brother. Kayla is this some kind of kink for you. ]

GOD NO I DIDN'T EVEN GO TO ONE OF THESE KINDS OF CHURCHES BUT. HRGH. HORRIBLE. I want to leave

LMAO CALLED OUT DEAN

LAUGHING im sorry watching Dean get throwm on the spot. Poor dumbass

Go up Dean this is your personal hell now

[ Crepe says no, wrong season. Lovely. ]

Dean having that face that I feel so deeply in my soul whenever someone tries to preacg Christianity to me

FUCKING. HAND AGAINST HIS HEAD poor Dean's face shshshs

UHHH WHAT WAS THAT. WHAT WAS THAT FIGURE

Oh. Oh my god it traded his life for his

O h n o

This is interesting and good but its also so fucking spooky the vibes

Ohhhh something. Something wanted Dean to live.

[ Kayla and Crepe go back and forth about how Supernatural is technically a horror show, though this is dropped somewhat in later seasons. What the fuck did I get myself into. ]

What the fuck is up w/Layla (Leilah?)

Oh :( poor girl

And Dean was the one who got healed so he's :((

"Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?" man

Dean's like 😟

Chick in the woods? Girl whats up?

Girl is abt to die for this old guy

A REAPER?

The music shdhdhdhsh

Thats pretty banger ngl. Whats this song anywas.... Death In The Valley?

NOT ME LOOKING IT UP ON SPOTIFY AND GETTING A PLAYLIST FOR SPN SOUNDTRACK?

DOG LEASH ON A GREAT WHITE

SCREAMS the guy handing out pamphlets "Roy is a fraud"

Dean: Amen brother

Sam: You keep up the good work!

Man: Thank you

God its so interesting storywise but also the vibes are Upsetting

Sam committing breaking and entering all by himself good for him

IS THE CHURCH GUY MURDERING PEOPLE HE DOESN'T LIKE BY SAVING OTHERS

HE IS. HOMOPHOBIC! LITERALLY

GOOOOOD SHIT FUCK nooo i dont wanna watch anymore I don't like confrontation and oough BAD VIBES

Im turning on captions hold on

LAYLA I KNEW IT

Noooooooooooo besties I Cannot

Guys this is UPSETTING

I keep pausing 😭

I'm like stop starting bc I would rather read than hear WHASGSFAFAF

[ Crepe is grinding in Coliseum on Flight Rising to pay me more so I watch more. I can't tell if I'm genius for this or not. ]

Oh the poor guy screaming and Sam being like WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT

Oh I stopped started so much Netflix crashed LMAO

Hrrrgh yeah yeah ok compelling but I want to crawl up a tree

Oh shes still praying

AH YES DEAN GETS TAKEN AWAY. ARRESTED. AGAIN

Ohhh its his wife.... his wife couldn't stand to lose him.... oh.......

"God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work." hey who gave this show the right

[ Kayla says "Remember when I told you this show was sometimes really good?" I tell her to fuck off. She says I'm only proving her point. I call her a bitch. This has no effect. ]

SAM BESTIE U DID IT TO SAVE DEAN CAN U NOT UNDERSTAND THE CONFLICT HERE

LMAO DEAN JUST YELLS AT THE COPS AND THEY CHASE HIM THATS SO FUNNY

A+ plan buddy

Godddd the vibes are so ick and tragic but man

MAN I LOVE WHEN THINGS TAKE CHRISTIANS AND MAKE THEM FUCKED UP

Dean buddy get ready to run again

"The Lord chose me" NO IT FUCKIN DIDN'T

Sams gonna like smack her huh

Oh that Reaper did NOT like being bound

Something something metaphor for controlling death

Winchester Patented Guilt Complex

Oh she still has faith even when she's got a bad diagnosis :(

GODDAMMIT NO DONT

; - ;

So like Dean Winchester Aetheist Extraordinaire saying "I'm not much of a praying type... but I'll pray for you" is something that can be so personal actually

Don't. Don't touch me go away

Fuck you guys for making me watch this show I'm tearing up I hate you all

-

In conclusion: OKAY DEAN WINCHESTER LIKERS MAYBE I GET IT. But also fuck off fuck all of you I hate it here goddamn you AUGH I WASNT EXPECTING TO TEAR UP OVER THIS FUCK YOOOOOOOU

[neven-ebrez]

Narrative betrayal, leaps of faith, and 15x03

Okay. I’ve slept so I’m going to put this out there. As painful as that Dean/Cas breakup was, it was necessary for them both. As a Cas fan I’m heartbroken for him. But I’m also proud of him. So this isn’t what I want to talk about. We’ve had months to prepare for this. This was something advertised in the PR as on ongoing plotline. It’s fine. Painful, but fine. So it isn’t my actual issue with the episode. What I’m stuck on personally is everything with Rowena.

What she “died” for? This is a temporary solution to their problem, not even a full solution. It’s basically “I’ll slow them down!” on a mortal level. But more than that, Rowena’s development is structured to be complete when she allows herself to be emotionally vulnerable and love again, to actively chase that. This is decidedly not what happened in 15x03. If a character is unable to develop into their “best self” as Amara put it when she did, then they are a tragic character. Heroic they can be, sometimes, yes, but also profoundly tragic. So if Rowena stays dead and has no action past this episode then I’d consider it not only a waste, but more importantly, a narrative betrayal. By design, that’s what tragedy is. So here’s where I bring in Billie. Billie’s death was structurally about the same in the sense that the writers decided she needed to die in order to become what was needed for her to complete her development, which was going from a person who wanted the Winchesters forever dead to a person who understood why they were forever important. That was Billie’s character goal and she only achieved it by being killed and “reborn”.

Notably, there was no foreshadowing for this, not for her to return not for her to complete her arc by dying to become something else, something greater. It’s a true narrative twist in the best definition of the term. So. Back then we simply talked about it as Billie having died and SPN having tastelessly killed yet another woman, and a POC at that. I want to say Rowena’s situation is basically the same here. It feels the same, rather. And I think I know how they must use her in the endgame, but it’s a piece of spec (that Rowena specifically will help Sam reorder Hell) off of a piece of spec (that the show is saying Hell as a construct needs to be changed) basically at this point. Unlike with Billie’s return, there’s at least a structural thread to follow here. And more importantly, precedent. So it’s like do I trust Dabb era to do here with Rowena like it did there with Billie? The answer is I don’t know. They honestly could have just depowered Rowena and kept her alive. But they didn’t. Killing her was a definite choice made by showrunning. And disposition effects execution. That’s something that keeps repeating in my head. Where Rowena’s head was at during all this seems pretty important to me. It’s like... I wanna believe, to speak well of SPN here, but like... I don’t KNOW. So I can’t. All we can do is wait, to take a leap of faith and hope for the best. Like Rowena, we jump.

It’s weird. S15 is so much of a retelling, a thematic revisiting across the board. Pun intended. Most closely it’s a retelling of S5 and S8, two points in which the show most definitely, by all accounts, should have ended. In Carver era and Kripke era women just DIED. In Dabb era, they are brought back, not forgotten, and often get upgrades. Free will is more powerful than fate. You can win the game by saving what you love. See how Rowena’s death doesn’t match these values? When none of Dabb era has been previously coded as tragic? Unlike Carver era? So it’s like... why stop here with Rowena?

I hope she’ll be back. But not as Queen of Hell. She should be back as Hell’s savior, wielding magic powerful enough to finally put an end to the unfairness of Hell’s torment and endless suffering. That’s an end that would be POWERFUL. It’s an ending, an upgrade I can only hope Dabb era continues in the tradition of upgrading powerful women into key positions within the SPN verse.

It’s a leap of faith.

[holylulusworld]

Smirk of the devil

Title: Smirk of the devil

Summary: He’s the devil in disguise.

Square filled for @spnquotebingo​​​​​​: (“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years.” – SPN)

Word Count: 1,9k

Pairing: Clubowner!Dean x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Ruby, Gadreel, unnamed girl

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  angst, language, smut, unprotected sex, a hint of fluff, mentions of cheating (implied), sadness, toxic relationship?, unrequited feelings, Dean hurt the reader more than once, hopeful ending but no happy ending

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

“Excuse me, miss,“ a young girl, barely twenty-one coos. She looks up at you with big doe eyes, batting her eyelashes. “I’m looking for Dean Winchester. He asked me to come here at nine.”

“No, you don’t,” anyone not knowing you would think you are trying to be rude to the girl, but this is so far from the truth. “Girls like you shouldn’t come to places like these.” you huff when the girl rolls her eyes. “You don’t want to meet up with Dean.”

“And you know this why?” she sasses, hands on her hips now. 

You can smell the strawberry chewing gum she tortured the whole time and can’t help but chuckle at her bratty attitude. Once upon a time, you were just like her.

Sweet, innocent, an intact heart beating in your chest.

“You’re not my mom. So, why do you think you can keep me away from Dean,” you’d like to slap her face at the ‘mom’ comment but bite your tongue. You never were a violent person. Maybe if you were, Dean would run around with one ball missing. “I bet you’re just jealous he wants me.”

What can you possibly tell the girl? That he will break her heart. That, once he has you in his clutches he will strip off your dignity, rip any pride left out of your chest and replace your former self with a drooling mess, begging him to do it all over again.

“Speak of the devil,” you whisper, watching Dean waltz into his club, the bunker, the place you first met. Those days seem a lifetime away. Back then you still were a cute and clueless girl, missing the way he tainted you with every touch and kiss. 

“I want to speak to him, now,” the girl pouts and you get the feeling she’s rather a girl scout wanting to sell cookies than her pussy to a man she won’t be able to handle. “NOW!”

“It’s your funeral, sweet cheeks,” you wave her off, walk past the girl to talk to Dean Winchester, the devil himself. Oh, how you wish you could tell him to go to hell, but you would only beg him to take you with him.

“Sweetheart,” he dips his head, shamelessly roams your body with darkened eyes, “you look ready to get eaten.” damn him, he smirks, and you get weak in the knees. “And you will—”

“Another of your fangirls,” you jerk your head in the girl’s direction, rolling your eyes. “Guess you are down to high school girls now, Winchester. Shame on you.”

“Jealous?” he cocks his head, watches you turn on your heels, ignoring your racing heart when he walks behind you, one hand on the small of your back. “So, how’s it going with your mysterious boyfriend lately?”

“Wonderful,” you grit out, already walking faster to brush Dean off. “I told you, no questions about my love life or I’ll quit once for all, Dean. Go, take care of your girl.”

It’s when he walks toward the girl that you allow yourself to admire his back, his broad shoulders, and, yes, his ass.

“Ogling my brother again?” Sam stands too close for comfort, but you don’t mind. “What’s the state of your on-and-off relationship? Who’s winning this round?”

“No one is going to win shit, Sammy. Dean wants to fuck every woman with a pulse, and I want a faithful man, period,” you turn your attention back toward the bartender who wanted to talk to you about the latest order.

“He’s hard to handle, I told you so,” Sam nudges your side. “Why don’t you lay claim on him and show any woman he’s yours.”

“Dean is not my man, never was,” you sigh, eyes filled with unshed tears once again. “When we met, he did anything to get me, and then, he dropped me like any other girl. I’m not what he wants, Sam. Dean lives for his club, Baby, and having sex with any woman he can get into his bed…”

“Bunny hole would be the better name for this shithole,” you grit out, downing your first drink of the night. “Give me another one, Gade. I wanna get drunk tonight.”

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t drink at work,” Dean sits on the barstool next to you, grinning when you grasp for the next drink. 

He easily snatches the drink out of your hands, downing it in one go, slamming the glass onto the counter. “Your boss could catch you red-handed and fire you or slap your ass. Whatever you prefer.”

“Go ahead and fire me, Winchester. This shithole will go down without the manager keeping it alive,” you quip. “Now let me have another drink. My shift is almost over.”

“Almost,” he whispers in your ear, fingertips sliding over your thigh to hike up your skirt. “How about we talk about this at my office in the back, Miss Y/L/N?” you place your hand on top of Dean’s to guide it to his thigh, hiding you shivered at his touch.

“Don’t hurt yourself, boss,” you lean closer to whisper the words. “I think you had enough fun with little miss sunshine not an hour ago. I hope you checked she was at age, Dean.”

“Jesus, I asked her to come around for a job, nothing else,” Dean grumbles, hand moving toward your thigh again. “I don’t play with girls, only with women.”

“Yeah, I remember how well you played with half of the female population in town,” snickering Dean slides off his barstool to stand behind you. He’s caging you with his body, places both hands on each side of the bar counter.

“You were one of them, and I remember you were so eager to get out of that cute dress you wore only for me, sweetheart,” he husks in your ear. “Come to my office, Miss Y/L/N, and let’s talk about your behavior lately.”

“If you insist, boss,” you hate you follow him all too eager.

While Dean waltzes toward his office, waving at people, you fight your way through the masses, unbeknownst Sam is following your every step with his eyes.

“She will fall for him all over again,” Ruby sighs. The brunette sips at her drink while sitting on Sam’s lap. “Can you not tell your brother to stop breaking my friend’s heart? She deserves better for fuck’s sake. Two years ago, she found a nice guy and tried to quit only to do the walk of shame the next morning.”

“I can’t help two fools in love to find their way. I tried, Baby. Don’t ask me to talk to my brother about love again. He’s stubborn. You know that Ruby.”

“I know, still, she deserves better than a quick fuck at his office only to end up alone and weeping on the floor for weeks after he had his way with her…”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Dean groans with every thrust. “I’ve missed this tight little cunt around me.” you hate yourself for letting Dean in once again while he takes you apart.

What can a girl do when he has you pressed against the wall the moment he closed the door behind you. His lips on yours, his hands on your ass to heave you up to hold you against the wall.

His thrusts are more demanding tonight, his lips tender against your throat and his hand, well his hands hold you a little tighter. “Dean, fuck—we shouldn’t.”

“A little too late for regrets,” the devil moans in your neck, moves a little slower to drag his thick length against your walls. “You’re so wet for me, Sugar.” you whimper at the nickname. 

It brings back memories of all the nights he called you like that, voice hoarse and his eyes only set on you.

“Go to hell—” you finally choke out, still, you hold tight onto his shoulders when he starts to fuck up into you at a madding pace. 

“I’ll just take you with me,” he grips your ass tighter, moves you up and down his length while his lips do the worst thing possible – they claim yours in a bruising kiss, take your breath away. 

Dean moans against your soft pillows, ignores a single tear that runs down your cheek or that your cunt flutters around him.

“You’re mine, my girl,” he demands, hips jerking uncontrollably now. “Never gonna let you go. Just hold tight, baby.”

You grasp for his shoulders, dig your nails deep into his skin when you can’t hold back the approaching high anymore. A wave of pleasure washes over you and for a moment everything is like it should be—until it isn’t. 

His warmth fills you and you remember the way he ended things, right after he fucked you against the wall at his place.

“What if you let me fall?” there is so much fear and pain hidden behind those few words Dean stops moving for a moment. He just looks at you pinned to the wall, bare and vulnerable right in front of him. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Why do you always keep coming back to me?” he nips at your lips, hands wrapping around your back. “Why, baby?”

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years,” you give Dean a sad smile, eyes filled with tears again. “Maybe I’m a masochist and like to get hurt. I don’t know why I let you in over and over again only to get broken.”

“I hate to break it for you, but we have this thing going on for almost six years,” Dean laughs when you punch his shoulder. “Maybe a little longer.”

“I know, dumbass,” you shake your head. “Two years ago, I found a new job and tried to leave town, but then you dragged me back into your life, and since then…”

“You try to escape me and my charming personality…”

“Why are you still here?” looking over your shoulder you wonder why Dean didn’t leave your place like he always does after he got what he wanted. “Isn’t one of your other girls waiting for you?”

“I told you that the girl was there for a job, not to suck my dick,” he kicks his shoes off and drops his shirt to the ground before he unzips his pants. “I want to stay the night.”

“Why?” watching Dean strip his socks off you frown. “Dean, you don’t need to pretend shit, okay. We both know I was just convenient again.” you turn around, not wanting to face the devil again. If you do, he’ll drag you down to hell again.

“Y/N, baby,” he crawls under the covers to press his face into your shoulder, “you’re not convenient to me. I swear, I asked the girl to come to the club for a job. She asked around at my mom’s place and I offered she can take over a few shifts. As a waitress, not for me to… you know…”

“How shall I know?” you hate that his warmth lulls you into safety. And you hate his arms wrap around your waistline even more. “All you do is to bang random chicks at your office. Just like you did with me not an hour ago.”

“You’re not a random chick, Y/N,” oddly Dean clings to you tonight. He burrows his face in your neck, not letting go of you until he feels your breathing even out. “Maybe you are the only girl I ever loved. I was just too afraid to keep you in my life.”

You can’t react to his confession as you are fast asleep. Dean doesn’t care. He needed to get it off his chest. 

“No matter what, you’ll always be mine, sweetheart. Come hell or high water,” he whispers. 

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll give him another chance to prove he’s not the devil, only a lonely man who messed things up years ago.

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog. 

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Leave Your Boots By The Bed (SPN x BtVS)

Sam Winchester x Faith Lehane

Word Count: 7350

Warnings: It’s smutty! Samhandling, the jockey is MJ’s favorite sex position, lots of discussions of trust and consent, unprotected sex, rimming, spanking, hair pulling, and dom/sub themes. Wee bit o’ feelings but in a nice way with a happy ending. Mostly just a whole bunch of marathon, athletic, probably-not-OSHA-compliant banging. 

A/N: This is the Sam/Faith side-quest (idk what else to call it) to Big Damn Heroes, but you don’t really need to read that to understand this. You can also read just the scene where these two meet over here. 

This is my entry for @idabbleincrazy and her “What Do You Mean This Is Classic Rock?” Challenge! My prompt was “Girl All The Bad Guys Want,” by Bowling For Soup, which 100% gave me Faith vibes. It’s quoted/referenced a couple times in the story. 

It’s also my (second) entry for @stusbunker’s Jam Basket fic exchange. This one’s for @thoughtslikeaminefield​, who deserves the world on a silver platter. I cannot give her that, so instead I offer Faith smut. Thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ for prodding and lotion-related reality checks, and to @fangirlxwritesx67​ for the read-throughs and for reassuring me that if I ever write Sam smut without a little psychoanalysis thrown in, she will worry about me. 

Title from the Jason Isbell song “Cover Me Up,” which I listened to on repeat while writing certain chunks of this. 

“What’s so funny?” Faith asks, looking at him sideways as they walk. 

“I just told you I come from another universe and your response is ‘cool.’” 

“Am I supposed to be impressed? I like it this way. No chance of you gettin’ all clingy.” 

Sam laughs. “Fair enough.” 

“Monsters, huh? You ever staked a vamp before?” 

“Stakes don’t kill ‘em in my world. But… beheaded a few,” Sam says mildly. 

“Yeah?” Her eyes sparkle. “So if we take the shortcut through the graveyard, you’re not gonna slow me down or get yourself killed?” 

He gives her an unimpressed look. “What do you think?” 

“Let’s go, then,” she challenges, pointing to the cemetery gate up ahead. “Bet I can dust more before we get to the other side.” 

“You’re on.” 

* * * * * * * * * *  

“Heads up,” Faith shouts, and tosses him a stake. Sam whirls and punches it through the thing’s ribcage, sending dust swirling just in time to turn and watch Faith launch herself at another vamp. 

“Is this where you take all your dates?” Sam wonders out loud, a little bit enthralled by the cocky grin on her face as she sends the vamp stumbling with one of those showy spin-kicks. 

“This is not a date,” she snaps, between solid punches. The last hit decks the vamp, and she stakes him before he can hit the ground. She struts toward Sam, brushing dust from her skintight jeans with a Cheshire cat smile. “I like my job. Fuckin’ sue me.” 

“Not complaining,” Sam says, sincerely. “Hottest thing I’ve seen in ages.” 

She looks up at him suspiciously, like she thinks he’s making fun of her, and Sam lets her see the heat in his eyes. The grin is back, and she’s grabbing him by the lapels and rocking onto her tiptoes, swaying into him with a little sigh and a lot of confidence. Sam slides both hands into her hair and ducks down to kiss her, sucking on her lower lip and tasting waxy red. 

Breathtakingly competent and moderately bitchy has always sorta been his type. 

“We had a bet,” he points out, before crushing his mouth to hers again. She makes a sound like a purr and wrenches herself away, grabbing him by the wrist and making a beeline for the path. 

“I’m gonna say we both won here,” she says decisively. “Let’s go.” 

* * * * * * * * * *  

She grabs him the second the lock slides into place, backing him against the door, already tugging at his belt. He yanks her jacket off her shoulders and she lets it fall, and then he grabs her by the belt loops, reeling her in until she’s pressed against him, hips flush to his as he slouches against the door. He bends to mouth at the long smooth line of her throat. 

“Talk to me,” he says, nipping at her earlobe. She shivers. 

“Fuck that,” she says hoarsely. “Didn’t bring you here to talk.” 

“Don’t worry, I can multitask.” Sam nibbles at the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, working delicate skin between his teeth, and pops the button of her jeans. He slides a hand down, teasing her clit with his fingertips, and repeats: “Tell me what you like.” 

“I like a lot less conversation and a whole lot more nudity,” Faith tosses back, but her voice is ragged, and she tilts her head to the side, baring her neck for his teeth. “I don’t fuckin’ know, dude, are we doing this or not?” 

He bends just enough to scoop her up, and she goes with it, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he cups her ass with both hands. When he turns them around, slamming her back against the door and rolling his hips, Faith lets out a breathy sound of surprise. 

He drags his open mouth up the side of her throat and repeats, “Talk to me.” 

She pulls him up by the hair, forcing his head back, rough and perfect, and Sam moans against her lips as she kisses him. It’s more like a bite, all teeth and heat. 

“Bedroom’s that way,” she says huskily. 

She’s so strong, rock-solid where she’s wrapped around him, that it’s barely an effort to carry her through the small, spare living space. She’s got her hands in his hair and her teeth scraping his collarbone, and Sam grits his teeth against the sting as he kicks the door shut behind them. 

“Get your fuckin’ clothes off already,” she rasps, tugging at his flannel, and he strips both his shirts off obligingly, leaning back against the wall to balance as he discards them without putting Faith down. 

She lets go of his neck to help him, holding herself up with no support other than her abs and her thighs. Sam’s just as turned on by that casual display of strength as by the sight of bare skin — no bra — when she peels her tank top off. He hoists her a little higher, until he can flick his tongue over one hard pink nipple. He blows a stream of cool air over the sensitive skin and she shivers, thighs squeezing his sides as she arches her back. 

“What do you want?” Sam whispers, and laves his tongue over the other nipple. 

“Fuck, anything, you’re killin’ me here.” 

“Anything?” He scrapes pebbled skin with his teeth, savoring the way she squirms. 

“Want you naked. Now.” She twists out of his grasp like a cat, sliding down his front and landing gracefully on her feet. Gracefully but loudly, that is; she crouches to deal with her big chunky boots, and Sam toes off his own. 

He grins down at her as she tugs on his belt, admiring the way her mouth looks: bright red from his teeth, now, with the last smudges of lipstick smeared down her chin. 

Sam bats her hands away from his zipper. He picks her up before she can argue and tosses her bodily onto the bed, and she bounces on the mattress, her hair spilling across the sheet like a dark glossy halo. She lifts her hips to get her jeans off, her torso bowing up in a long elegant curve. 

Neither of them hide the way they check each other out when the clothes are finally out of the way. Sam kneels on the bed, looking down at her, and she bites her lip, tracking the movement of his hand as he strokes himself lazily. 

“Is this what you want?” he asks. “Ask for it.” 

Her eyes sparkle, mischievous and defiant, and she moves so fast that Sam’s taken by surprise when she grabs him — he can’t remember the last time that happened to him, let alone in bed. She pulls him down on top of her and rolls them over, switching their positions, and Sam laughs breathlessly as she pins his wrists to the pillow on either side of his head. 

“I don’t like takin’ orders,” she says smugly.

“Is that true?” Sam counters. “Or have you just never met anybody who knows how to give orders?” 

She looks startled by that, but instead of responding, she straddles him — sinks down on him wet and tight and perfect — and Sam has to grit his teeth and close his eyes for a moment, adjusting to all that sudden slippery heat around him. 

There’s a gratifyingly breathless note in her voice when she says, “Does it matter? Point is, I can take care of myself.” 

She’s not fucking kidding about that part. 

She arches into a spectacular back-bend, supporting herself with one hand and zero visible effort. Her other hand is between her legs, rubbing her clit hard and fast as she bucks her hips up in little jerky rocking movements — and there’s an image that will (hopefully) be seared into Sam’s memory until the day he dies. For a moment all he can do is watch and try to memorize it. Then he presses the heel of his hand into her lower belly, grinding into her as best he can, and she clenches around him, soaking and squeezing in pulses so intense it almost hurts as she comes with a rough, husky moan. 

“This is gonna be fun,” Sam breathes, and he tugs her upright for one searing kiss before flipping her onto her stomach. 

* * * * * * * * * *  

When Sam offers to wash her hair, she reacts like he just proposed marriage, except instead of an engagement ring, he’d offered her a grenade pin — shock, disbelief, and more than a little fear. 

“Please tell me this is a kinky thing,” she says warily, and Sam laughs, tilting his head back in the spray and sluicing water from his face with both hands. When he looks down at her again, she’s still got her lip curled and her defenses up. 

“It’s not a kinky thing,” he says, rolling his eyes. 

She can’t get far in the shower stall, but she turns her back to him, and Sam’s forcibly reminded of a cat, licking her paws dry after accidentally stepping in a puddle. 

“I can wash my own damn hair. Shit, don’t get all touchy-feely on me.” 

Sam’s had a lifetime of practice at remaining earnest in the face of someone who’s determined to pretend they don’t want his kindness. He knows better than to give up that easily. 

“Come here,” he says, smoothing his hands up her sides. She doesn’t relax, exactly, but she doesn’t shy away. “Faith. Different universe, remember? Not a romantic thing. I just want to touch you.” 

She takes a reluctant half-step back, settling against him without a word. 

Sam squirts a dollop of shampoo into his palm, tilting her chin up so that her head falls back, and he massages her scalp with his fingertips, rubbing in firm circles. 

“Keep your eyes closed for me,” he tells her quietly, maneuvering her into the spray, but he shields her face carefully with one hand as he starts to rinse the lather out, making sure the bubbles don’t go anywhere near the fan of her spiky-wet lashes. “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah,” she croaks, barely audible under the sound of the water. “S’ not so bad.” 

“Speaking of kinky things,” he says casually. “We should talk about that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you like? What’s your safeword?” 

“Safeword?” She snorts, dismissive. “What, you really think you could dish out somethin’ I couldn’t take?” 

Sam clenches his jaw. He’s glad her back is to him so she can’t see the expression on his face right now. 

There are no more bubbles in her hair, but he keeps running his hands through it, just to have something to do as he figures out how to say this. 

“I don’t think there’s much you couldn’t take,” he tells her softly. “I think you might be the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Damn straight,” she mutters, mollified.

Sam squeezes out some conditioner, finger-combing it through her hair. 

“You don’t trust me,” he says. It’s not a question. 

“Fuck no,” she replies promptly. “Why would I? Trust is something you gotta earn.” 

Sam’s mouth twists into a smile. “Fair enough. But… it’s not about seeing how much you can take. It’s about you trusting me to stop, no questions asked, if you say that word. You want me to take control, I’ll do it. Believe me, I’m down. But not until you trust me. If you think you can do that, all you gotta do is ask. Okay?” 

She takes a breath like she wants to say something, but she seems to think better of it. She lets out a sigh, looking at him — through him — and all he gets is a subdued, “Yeah, okay.” 

Sam tilts her head back gently again, working his fingers through her hair until the little crease of a frown fades from her forehead. He turns her in his arms, cradling her against his chest, and she lets him, resting her cheek over his heart. 

“Poughkeepsie.” 

“Gesundheit.” 

“Cute. It’s a city where I — I was in over my head, one time, and I needed help. That’s my safeword.” 

She pulls back, looking up at him, confusion written all over her face. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because I trust you.” 

“Really?” 

Sam shrugs. “If somebody offered you a lot of money to kill me, I’d sure as fuck be watching my back. But… as far as respecting boundaries? Here and now, just you and me? Yeah, I trust you completely.” 

Faith stares, scanning his expression for a hint of a lie, but when she doesn’t find one, her eyes soften. Her lips curl briefly into a pleased little smile.   

“Didn’t really take you for the submissive type.”  

“I’m not.” 

She cocks her head thoughtfully, gaze calculating, and prods, “Go on, then. You’re the one who wants to talk about everything.”

“No bodily fluids.” 

“With you on that one. There’s good freaky fun and then there’s just freaky. What else? Bet you’d look real pretty tied to my bed.” 

“No chains. Ropes, cuffs, that’s fine — no chains. Um.. pain isn’t a big deal. I’d rather you didn’t draw blood, but… as far as pain goes, don’t worry about pushing too far.” 

“Tryna be a tough guy?” 

“No. Just telling you the facts. Temperature play is a hard limit. Ice, especially.” 

“Okay. So… if I wanted to blindfold you, tie you up, and ride your face for a while…” 

“Works for me.” She gets out of the shower without another word, grabbing a towel, all business, and he laughs. “Somebody’s in a hurry.” 

“You’ve got like sixty seconds before the hot water runs out and it gets all end-of-Titanic in there.” She flashes him a grin. “Also, yeah. Let’s go.” 

* * * * * * * * * *  

She pretends she’s asleep, for a while, but then she slips out of bed, and her bare feet don’t make a sound as she navigates the apartment in the dark. He hears the toilet flush, water run, then the creak of… something. 

He gives her a minute to herself before he gets up, just as silent as she was, and follows the smell of smoke to the open window. She’s leaning on the sill, silhouetted by the filtered yellow light of street lamps, and when she takes a drag the orange ember flares in the dark. 

“Jesus, fuckin’ scared the shit outta me,” she snaps. The Boston in her voice comes out strong when she’s startled. When she offers him the last bit of the cigarette he takes it, grabbing her wrist with the other hand, and throws it out the window as he pulls her close. 

“Hey, I was smokin’ that,” she protests, voice crackly like there’s a popping fire down in her chest. 

Sam traces the curve of her cheek. He brushes one curled knuckle back and forth over her lower lip and then drags the pad of his thumb over the pillow of it, watching the soft give as he presses down. Her tongue darts out to flicker over his thumb, but otherwise, she’s motionless. 

Faith takes his wrist, holding his hand to her mouth, and swirls her tongue over the pad of his thumb. Then she slides his index and middle fingers into her mouth, sucking on them shamelessly. They slide from her lips with a wet pop. A bolt of heat thuds through Sam’s gut — he’s only human. 

“I like your hands,” she purrs, with one last suggestive lick. 

“Something in particular you want me to do with them?” he asks. 

She hesitates and presses a kiss to the center of his palm before answering: “I bet you have some ideas.” 

“Tell me what you want, Faith.” 

For a second there’s a deer-in-headlights vulnerability in her huge dark eyes, and she can’t hide the slight frown that flickers across her face. 

“Why do you keep asking me that?” she whispers. She’s still holding his wrist. Sam twists to lace his fingers through hers instead, letting their joined hands drop palm-to-palm. 

“Because sex isn’t fun for me unless everybody’s getting what they want. Call me crazy, but…” 

“I brought you here, didn’t I? You know I want it. That’d be good enough, for most guys. Believe me, if you do somethin’ I don’t like, I’ll tell you about it.”  

Sam closes his eyes, thinking of a half-dozen possible answers to that question. He considers telling her about Meg and Gadreel and all the other things that have slithered in over the years and used his body without his permission. He feels a phantom pain in his palm and remembers Lucifer’s taunt — you let me in — and he considers telling her about why he can’t stand the feel of ice or the rattle of chains. 

He settles for the most fundamental answer: “Because you deserve to get what you want. You deserve better than ‘good enough.’”

She digests that silently for a moment, and then she guides his hand firmly to her hip, before grabbing the other and placing it flat on her breastbone. 

“Just… touch me?” she asks, and Sam smiles, shifting closer, running his hands over her skin: fingertips in the dip of her throat, thumb stroking her collarbone, palm sweeping up and down her side, gentle and deliberately innocent. 

“Why does it bother you so much when I ask?” he says softly. 

She grimaces, and for a second it looks like she’ll brush it off, make a joke of it. 

“Not used to it, I guess. Most guys don’t ask. I think guys look at me, they make some assumptions, you know?” 

“Such as?”

She shrugs. “Guess they figure I’m down for anything.” 

“Faith.” 

“Don’t. Anyway, it’s more than that. Most people, they only offer to give you something if they want something in return.” 

“What do you think I want from you?” 

“That’s what’s got me spun out. Figured you just wanted a great lay, but… you’re still here.” She drops her gaze. “Bein’ all sweet and shit.”

Sam tries to hide his smile. “Should I not be?” 

“Can’t figure you out,” Faith mumbles. “You’re different.” 

Sam thinks about that for a moment as he folds to his knees in front of her. He drags his mouth down the center of her chest, tasting salt, and nips at the soft skin under her belly-button. 

“How do you mean?” He looks up at her again, holding eye contact as he traces her hipbone with his tongue. 

“I’m not the kinda chick that sweet guys usually go for, you know?” She slides her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and Sam hums his approval. “The nice ones know better. I’m the girl all the bad guys want.”

“That seems a bit reductive, don’t you think?” 

“See, shit like that. Your mouth’s an inch away from my pussy and you’re using words like reductive.”

“I just want you. All of you, not just the ‘nice’ parts or the shit you show most guys.” 

“Might not be saying that if — oh. Do that again.” 

“Faith, trust me when I say that whatever you’ve done, I’ve done worse.”

“Jesus, can we talk about this later?” 

“What do you want?” 

“Want you to get your ass back in bed and quit teasing, for starters.” 

“I can do that.”

* * * * * * * * * *  

“The fuck did you find in the fridge?” Faith asks hoarsely. 

“Beer and pickles,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. 

She’s leaning against the frame of the bedroom door, wearing his flannel and nothing else. It’s open, baring a long slice of pale skin, from the dip between her breasts and down her stomach to a neat trail of dark hair. She looks like a centerfold, but rumpled and sleepy-eyed and real, human, in a way that makes it so much hotter. 

“You went out.” She frowns at the front door.

“Are you surprised I came back?” 

“Honestly? Not really.” Sam hides his smile at that answer. “Except that door’s supposed to lock automatically.” 

“It does. I picked the lock.” 

“Anything you can’t do?” Faith comes over and hoists herself up onto the counter next to him, eyeing the pan of bacon eagerly. 

“Never been good at walking in heels.” Sam passes her the extra large to-go cup of dark roast he’d gotten her from the local coffee place, and she grins. 

“Shit, you really know how to spoil a girl.” 

Sam puts a hand on her bare thigh, thumb running back and forth idly as he takes her in, tracing the shape of her body with his eyes. She gives him a raised eyebrow and sips her coffee quietly. There’s none of the wariness or put-on swagger from last night. She just seems comfortable. 

“No bruises,” he says, hand sliding up higher, finding nothing but unblemished skin where he knows he left marks. Every imprint of Sam’s teeth and hands and hipbones has melted away. 

“Slayer healing.” She leans back on her palms, inviting him to touch more. Sam pulls his hand away — pancakes to flip — but he smirks. 

“That’s a shame. They looked good on you.” 

Faith’s eyes go dark. “Yeah?” 

“I’ll just have to leave some more… later. Breakfast is ready.” 

Faith eats with an indecent enthusiasm that reminds him of Dean, but somehow that doesn’t surprise him. Which… speaking of Dean — Sam borrows her cell as they’re finishing breakfast, because apparently other universes aren’t included in his roaming service, and a sleepy female voice picks up. 

“Faith?” 

“Sam, actually. Is my brother around?” 

“Sam? Did you… you and Faith?” Buffy’s voice goes a little squeaky at the end. Then there’s indistinct scuffling. 

Faith swipes her index finger through the maple syrup that’s left on her plate, sucking it clean, hollowing her cheeks in a way that’s pretty fucking distracting. 

“Sammy?” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Hey. You didn’t even notice I was gone, did you?”

“Where are you? Who’s Faith?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam says. “Did Charlie fix the thing?”

“Uh, hang on.” There’s a muffled conversation on the other line. 

Faith gets up, walking around the table to pick up Sam’s plate, her movements slinky and deliberate, her hips swaying, showing off tantalizing glimpses of skin as his flannel skims the curves of her body. He twists around to watch her go. Faith sets both plates in the sink and stretches, and the flannel rides up her thighs. 

“Pretty sure Charlie’s not awake yet either,” Dean says. “Late nights all around. Go team. Should we save you some breakfast?” 

“No, I’m busy.” 

Dean is saying something, but Sam’s not really paying attention. Faith is leaning on the table, bent at the waist, the flannel riding up to expose the lower curve of her ass. Sam turns in his chair to raise an eyebrow at her, pointedly adjusting himself in his jeans. She smirks like the cat who got the cream. 

“Just call this number when you need me, Dean,” Sam says abruptly, cutting him off. “See you later.” He hangs up before Dean can get a protest in. 

She bats her eyelashes, sugary-sweet. “Sorry, did I distract you?” 

“Don’t lie. You’re not sorry at all.” Sam shakes his head, mock-scolding, and gives her a light tap, mostly to watch the way her flesh jiggles just right under his hand. 

She grins, wiggling her hips and spreading her legs a little wider. “If you’re gonna do it, do it like you mean it.” 

There’s a long, weighted pause. 

“Are you asking me for —”

“Fuck yes I am.” 

“Faith…” 

She’s quiet but sincere when she says, “I trust you.” 

Sam exhales sharply, and because she looks nervous, now, he quips, “Should’ve known bacon would do the trick.” She laughs at that and relaxes, so he stands up slowly and asks, “Safeword?” 

“Dorchester.” 

Sam smiles — equal parts amused by the word choice and touched by the trust. He runs a hand down her back and then up again, taking the soft fabric with him, rucking it up. He takes his time, drawing it out to watch the way she pouts, positioning himself behind her and flattening a palm between her shoulderblades to push her down. She braces herself on her forearms. 

“Good girl.” 

“Well?” 

“Be patient.” 

“Fucking hit me already,” she says sulkily. 

“You can have anything you want,” he promises her, and he grabs a handful of hair, yanking her head back. “You just have to ask for it. Politely.” 

He hears the way she sucks in a breath, ragged and desperate, and he smiles. 

“Please spank me. Hard.”

“Good girl,” he repeats. He steps back and squeezes before smacking her, nowhere near hard enough to hurt. 

“C’mon, is that the best you’ve got?” she teases, laughing. 

“You know it’s not.” He brings his hand down with a satisfying sound, and Faith groans. 

“Harder,” she grits out. 

The next one makes her cry out, ragged and ecstatic. He hits her again, hard enough that his palm smarts, wrist snapping precisely so that the blows are spaced just right across her ass and her upper thighs. 

By the time he pauses again she’s panting harshly. He takes a second to admire her, the pretty shade of red blossoming on her pale skin and the way she’s arching her back, putting herself on display for him. 

“Fuck, you look good like this.” He kicks her feet farther apart and traces up her center with two callused fingertips. “So wet already, aren’t you?” 

She tries to push back into it, to fuck herself on his fingers as she whimpers, “More?” 

He lets loose, brings his palm down with a vicious crack, and he can see the way her legs start to shake. 

“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” He leans forward, grinding against her, letting her feel how hard he is through his jeans, and when he pulls back again she moans. Her skin is hot to the touch. He runs his fingers over it teasingly before sliding two fingers into her cunt, curling them, pumping and twisting as Faith curses and clenches around him. 

“Need you,” she pants. “More.” 

“Let me hear you,” he says. He pulls his fingers out and spanks her again, and she shudders, head bowed, pussy glistening wet. 

“Please fuck me,” she breathes. He’s reaching for his belt before she gets the word out. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

He rubs the head of his cock through her slickness, teasing, and when she tries to push back, his shaft slides between her lips, dragging along her clit. He bites back a groan and plants his left hand solidly at the base of her neck, forcing her to drop down with her cheek to the table, holding her in place. 

“Shit,” she snaps. “Fuckin’ give it to me.” 

“What did I say?” 

“Want to feel that big thick cock, please,” she says. He can hear the wicked edge in her voice. “Want to feel you fillin’ me up when I come. Just fucking wreck me, Sam. Hold me down and make me scream… please.” She pauses and then asks smugly, “Fuckin’ polite enough for you?”

She could recite a grocery list in that ragged, raspy voice and it’d probably turn him on, at this point; as it is, he feels dizzy from sudden lack of bloodflow to his brain. 

“We gotta work on those manners,” he says softly, and pushes into her, just a couple inches, before sliding out again. She whines.

He does it over and over again — one torturously shallow thrust after another — working her open with little rocking motions that are nowhere near enough. She whimpers, and he watches, clocking every shudder that runs up her spine, every involuntary quiver as he fucks into her a little deeper, slick spreading up the flushed-dark length of his cock with each stroke. 

It takes every last shred of his self-control, but he forces himself to move slowly, deliberately, until she’s dripping wet and slamming her fists into the table. 

Finally, she caves, sobbing two syllables like they’re the only words she remembers: “Please — Sam — please — Sam — please —” 

“That’s better,” he sighs, and grabs her by the hips, shifting until he finds the spot that makes her twitch and squirm. She quakes when he hits it dead-on, and he sets an unrelenting pace, fucking her so hard the table hammers against the wall, a rapid-fire counterpoint to her broken, drawn-out cries. 

Faith bucks helplessly as she comes, and Sam lets go a split-second later, half collapsing forward as he grinds into her one last time. He braces himself with both palms flat on the wood, and his knees threaten to give out. 

His first coherent thought is amazement that the table is still standing, and while he’s trying to remember how to speak, Faith mumbles, “Shit, can’t believe we haven’t broken any furniture yet.” Sam laughs so unexpectedly he almost chokes, and maybe it’s contagious, because Faith starts giggling too. 

Sam maneuvers them onto one of the chairs in a messy pretzel of sweat and skin and half-discarded clothes. A surge of pure giddy affection swells in his ribcage, and he wraps his arms around her, squeezing tight, tickling her with his stubble against her neck until she shrieks and twists. 

Faith turns her head at an awkward angle to kiss him. Then she mumbles, “Is there more bacon? I could go for more bacon.” 

“Anything you want.” 

* * * * * * * * * *  

Faith stretches extravagantly as she gets up from the opposite end of the couch, and his flannel slips off her shoulders. She lets it fall as she pads over to the fridge. 

“Have I mentioned today how good you look naked?” Sam asks. 

She pulls two bottles of beer from the fridge and strikes a goofy, mock-sexy pose. “No, but go right ahead.” 

“You look really fucking good naked.”

“Not so bad yourself.” She passes him a bottle and sprawls out with her legs draped across his lap. “Why’d you put your clothes back on, anyway?” 

“Hot bacon grease and nudity isn’t a good combo. Trust me.” 

“Sounds like the voice of experience talking there.” 

“Not personal experience,” Sam says with a smirk. “Dean, though…” 

She laughs. He tosses the last bite of bacon at her, and she catches it in her mouth. 

“Not cooking any more though, are you?” she asks archly. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He obliges, though, stripping unceremoniously, and Faith catcalls. She crawls into his lap when he sits back down, leaning in for a kiss that tastes like beer. 

“Much better,” she says quietly, pressing her forehead to his. 

“Really thought I might’ve tired you out there.” 

“Honestly? Yeah, I need a minute,” she confesses, with a laugh. “Just wanted some eye candy.” 

“At your service.” 

She settles a little more comfortably in his lap, straddling him, and they exchange slow, lazy kisses. Sam can’t bring himself to stop kissing her. Her lips are soft and plush, and every brush of her tongue and nip of her teeth feels like a luxury, like something he should treasure, because he knows this intimacy has an expiration date. 

They stare at each other for a long moment, sweet and almost shy. 

Sam offers, “Want to watch a soap opera on mute and make up our own dialogue?”

Her dimples really show when she’s surprised to find herself smiling. She grabs their beers and the remote from the milk crate that serves as her coffee table, raising her bottle in a toast, and then she curls up at Sam’s side, naked and soft and bruised. She fits under his arm like she was meant to be there. 

It’s the happiest Sam can remember being in a long time. 

Normal, he thinks. This is what normal people do — breakfast and kisses on the couch — tenderness and softness and quiet everyday vulnerability. 

Then again, neither of them are normal, not really. Maybe that’s why Sam feels so comfortable with her.

* * * * * * * * * *  

This time, she passes him the shampoo without a word, sighing as he cradles the back of her skull with one hand and smooths the hair back from her forehead with the other. When he’s finished, hazy honey-colored eyes blink up at him slowly, like she’s coming out of a trance. It’s a dizzying change from the last time they did this. 

They haven’t said goodbye yet and he already misses her — misses this — but he knows he’s lucky to have it for a moment, however brief. 

The scalding water feels like heaven on his sore muscles. Sam tilts his head to the side, trying to stretch, and his neck makes a series of popping noises. Faith winces in sympathy. 

“Shit, man,” she chuckles. “You sound like Rice Krispies.” She maneuvers around him in the narrow space, reaching up to dig her knuckles into one of his many knots. Sam groans, exaggeratedly pornographic. 

Her hands are small, but strong, and Sam’s melting under her palms, increasingly loose-limbed and pliant as she works her thumbs in circles down the muscles on either side of his spine. 

“We should get out of here before I forget how to stand up,” he mutters, and Faith laughs. “I think it’s your turn.” 

“I like the sound of that.” 

She lays herself out on the bed, stomach down, and Sam takes a moment to stare. The way she’s put together — sleek muscle and lush curves under creamy skin — is like art. If she was anyone else, Sam might call her delicate, but he knows better; he knows exactly what she can do. She’s a hurricane disguised as a porcelain doll. 

He looks down at his own rough fingers, thickly callused from pencils and triggers and punches, and grabs a bottle of lotion from the dresser before he settles on the bed, straddling her hips. His hands seem massive on her shoulders, and when he drags his palms down, wrapping his fingers around the slim curve of her waist, he marvels at the way she almost fits in the circle of his grasp. 

He loses himself in the pleasure of just touching her — in the glide of silky skin under his fingers — in the soft grunts and hums she lets out when he works his fingers into a particularly tight knot. He sweeps his thumbs down the pretty little dimples at the small of her back and then lower, caressing and kneading. He’s careful to avoid pressing on the dappled purple-red bruises from earlier, but he skims them appreciatively, feather-light.

“Do those hurt?” he whispers. 

“Little bit. I like it.” 

He was already half-hard, aroused in a distant, lazy sort of way, but his dick twitches at that. 

He brushes his fingertips down the outsides of her thighs, then up the insides, watching the way she spreads her legs wider for him, but he stops just short of the apex, tracing out along the creases where her ass meets her legs instead. 

This feels like a form of worship. 

Sam bends to press his mouth to the small of her back, kissing one dimple then the other. He trails sweet open-mouthed kisses down the curve of her ass, lips dragging reverently over velvety skin, licking and sucking along the tops of her thighs, drinking in the way she whimpers and shivers. 

“More?” she murmurs. 

Sam hooks an arm around her, sliding his forearm under her hips to cant them up so he can lick a thick stripe right up her center, swiping his tongue down and up again with a slick slurping noise. The angle isn’t comfortable but it’s fucking hot; it feels like he’s completely surrounded by her, like this, and when he licks deeper, fucks her shallowly with his tongue, the taste of her arousal floods his senses, until the soapy-clean smell of freshly-showered skin is lost under salty-sweet musk and Sam’s mouth and chin are a mess of slick and spit. 

She’s trembling as she repeats, “More.” 

He drags his tongue in one broad swipe from her clit up between her ass cheeks, and she curses, pressing back against his mouth. He twists two fingers into her cunt, feeling her clamp down around his scarred knuckles and shudder under his mouth, a frisson of pleasure that travels all the way up her spine. He curls his tongue against tight muscle and crooks his fingers, circles her swollen clit with his thumb, and she muffles a sharp cry into the pillow as she comes. 

“More — please — Sam?” she gasps, still clenching around him, so wet he can hear the sound of his fingers pumping into her one last time. 

He slides on top of her, blanketing her body with his, kissing the nape of her neck as he presses into her. She reaches back and fists a hand in his hair, making a rough wordless noise that sounds like a question, and her fingers twist until his scalp stings and Sam groans. He sits up, straddling her legs, and his entire body throbs with the pulse of blood in his cock as he fucks her. With her legs together like this, pinned under him, she feels so impossibly tight — velvety-soft and steely all at once — he can barely see straight. 

She’s crying out with every gasping breath: “More — please.” 

Sam wonders what he could do if he could learn her body, learn what she likes, learn how to take her apart in seconds or draw it out until she’s a writhing mess… if he had just a little more time with her. 

* * * * * * * * * *  

Faith is wrecked and gorgeous on top of him, not riding him so much as undulating: deep scooping twists of her hips, rising and falling syrupy-slow like she’s moving underwater. There’s dark sweat-soaked hair clinging to her temples and a hazy-eyed, rosy-cheeked expression of bliss on her face. Sam watches a droplet of sweat trickle down between her breasts.

He’s losing his grip on time and the boundaries that used to sit so decisively between them. They’re both exhausted to the point that everything seems a little surreal, dreamy, right in that sweet spot where they might be too tired to come again but languid, sensual sex still feels amazing. 

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers. “Just like that.” 

Faith tilts forward to kiss him, melting against his chest as she rolls her hips. He wraps her up in his arms and flips them, still inside her, still twined around her. He rocks into her, testing one angle and then another, hitching her leg up higher around his waist, grinding and swiveling until he finds the angle that makes her choke out a curse and clutch at his biceps.

“There,” she whimpers. 

Heat starts to pool low in his gut, building slowly but inevitably. He leans down to kiss her, tasting salt, mouths brushing clumsily between deep ragged breaths. 

“Gorgeous like this.” 

“Sam,” she says helplessly, in the shredded whisper that’s left of her voice. “This — you —“ 

“I’ve got you, it’s okay. I know.” 

Neither of them are particularly coherent, but he knows. 

Gold rays of sun slant through the blinds in stripes, illuminating the amber in her irises and the suspicious shine gathering in the corner of her eyes. She smiles up at him in a way that leaves him breathless. It takes him by surprise, the trust in her expression and the heaviness in the moment, and he knows she can feel it too. 

Sam wants to shy away from it, but he can’t take his eyes off her. 

“Where’s that Al Green soundtrack when you need it, huh?” she manages, and it shocks a breathless laugh out of Sam. Faith giggles too, choked-up and overtired and hoarse. Sam can feel her laugh, feels the rippling clench of wet-hot muscle around him; his body reacts with this gut-punch of arousal, and he snaps his hips, driving in deep. She lets out a rough moan and writhes under him, raking her nails down his back. 

From there it builds fast, wild and uncontrollable and blinding, both of them clawing at each other, moving on pure animalistic instinct, lost in each other — lost in the moment. It’s the sort of orgasm that hits like a blackout, like Sam’s out of his body for a few seconds that might as well be an eternity.

When he comes to, he’s whispering nonsense into the sweat-slick crook of her neck — babbling endearments, calling her baby — saying sweet stupid things she would never accept if she was in her right mind, but she doesn’t argue; he’s grateful. In return, Sam pretends not to notice the tears sparkling in her eyelashes.  

They’re not sad tears, he knows that much. She’s beaming up at him, all this messy pure human happiness shining in her eyes. She’s beautiful. 

Eventually they stop shaking, and Sam whispers, “Nap?” 

“Yeah.” 

She tucks herself under his chin, and he strokes her hair, counting the breaths before she drops off. She’s asleep in ten, and Sam loses count at eleven. 

* * * * * * * * * *  

They’re woken in disorienting darkness by a jangling ringtone, and Sam’s immediate instinct is to grab the gun he keeps under his pillow. There’s no gun, though — just a warm naked girl draped over him, cursing like a sailor as the phone continues to ring — because there’s no need for a gun here. 

Faith answers the phone by growling a suggestion that sounds anatomically improbable, and Sam hears Dean’s gruff baritone on the other end. He snatches the phone out of her hand. 

“S’the middle of the fucking night, Dean,” he grumbles. 

“Dude, it’s nine. When was the last time you were asleep by nine?” 

“Fuck.” He knuckles at his eyes and fights the urge to hang up, turn the phone off, and burrow under the sweat-soaked sheets to sleep until he actually feels rested for once. “Yeah, okay, be there soon.”

Sam is about to apologize for waking Faith, but she sits up too, switching on the lamp, looking around bleary-eyed. 

“Gonna walk with you as far as the graveyard,” she says, through a yawn. “Vamps don’t take a night off.” 

Sam feels like he got hit by a goddamn truck, sore and achy all over, but the exhaustion goes much deeper than that. In spite of it, he’s smiling as they dress. 

They’re quiet, nothing but a soft, “You see my other sock?” interrupting the heavy silence. They don’t touch as they leave the dark apartment and head down the dingy stairwell into the warm California night, and they don’t talk. They’re pulling themselves together — rebuilding the walls that separate them from normal people — putting on the emotional armor that allows them to fight the battles they have to fight.  

They don’t wander away from the path through the cemetery, this time, and the monsters don’t find them. When they reach the gate on the other side, Faith stops. 

“You know how to get back from here?” 

“Yeah.” He pulls her in by her jacket to kiss her, deep and bruising. 

She pulls away enough to mutter, “Fuckin’ figures you’re from another goddamn universe.” 

“If things were different —” 

“They’re not, though,” Faith says, smiling ruefully. “And that’s for the best.” 

“Probably wouldn’t end well, would it? ” 

“We’d never get outta bed, the monsters would take over. Every universe needs its heroes, right?” 

“Right.” Sam cradles her face in his hands to give her another soft kiss and says, “Take care of yourself.”  

Faith steps back. “Always do.”

She turns, pulling a stake out of her jacket as she stalks away, off the path toward the darker corners of the graveyard. Sam watches her go. 

She doesn’t look back, but before she’s out of earshot, she shouts, “Quit starin’ at my ass and go save the world already. You’ve got work to do.” 

Sam laughs, and then he rolls his eyes and starts walking, smiling to himself. She’s not wrong. 

.

.

.

[gay-fae]

I think something I’ve realized about my experience with Supernatural is that although some of the plotlines were okay, it was never about the plot for me.

If you asked me to tell you the plot of season eight, I wouldn’t remember. Same with season 12. Same with a ton of stuff! Because it never mattered to me all that much.

I watched Spn almost purely for the characters.

I started with s1 e1 and immediately had this attachment to Sam, because a lot of his story connected to me. But then over time I saw a TON of myself in Dean. I mean, I related to him to him so hard in so many ways.

And then Cas came along, and his story HIT me. So much of his character’s struggle (feeling like you have to be useful in order to matter) (oops who’s projecting not me) resonated with me so deeply. And I cared about him so much that I followed his story incredibly closely.

And then, when Jack was introduced, sometimes if felt like I was watching myself on screen. He had a similar story to Cas, but he was so young and still had this tangible eagerness to prove himself—an eagerness that Cas had lost somewhere along the way. Jack was still desperately clawing at every opportunity he could to show the Winchesters that he was good and that he was worth something. That he wasn’t evil. And I thought “woah, who sold four years worth of my life story to the CW?”

Honestly, I personally thought a lot of Spn’s plot lines sucked and weren’t followed through with/handled well. I even hated a couple of seasons but still watched because I had to know what would happen to TFW/TFW 2.0. Because those characters mattered to me. Their struggles often times reflected my own.

So when people say to me “why would you watch Supernatural? It has such shitty writing” all I can say is I KNOW. I KNOW IT HAS A LOT OF SHITTY WRITING. But it also has some beautiful motifs and had meaningful relationships and developments. (If only the finale had followed through with closing those arcs well.)

I watched Supernatural because the characters meant something to me. When I say I’m upset about how it ended and people say “why would you put your faith in that show anyway?” I want them to understand that not only were the character’s perfect endings pristinely laid out for them, but I thought the writers would care enough to give Sam an ending with Eileen. I thought they’d care enough Dean the happy ending he’d been fighting for for all these years (preferably with Cas). I thought they’d at least care enough to give Cas’s story closure and meaning. For him to see that Dean wants him around not because he needs him, but because he chooses to have him there.

And the writers didn’t deliver.

We were all done dirty, and we have a right to be mad. And Spn hate blogs have the right to hate on the show all they want, because I think that the show deserves a TON of harsh criticism!! (The lack of female characters, the lack of characters of color—especially ones who are protagonists, the lack of queer rep, especially during the later seasons when it was more common on TV, etc.) (not that it didn’t have some of those things, but it didn’t have nearly enough). Spn is VERY FAR from perfect and has a million different issues.

But the characters that are there? The ones that we’re rooting for?

I cared about them because they meant something personal to me. And that is why I devote so much of my time to the show, and ESPECIALLY to the fandom. Their stories mattered. To me and to so many others like me.

[marlborodean]

spn quotes: season three

i’m collecting a bunch of quotes from the show! my favorite lines, good points of characterization, etc. all organized by episode and character, and with timestamps!

w/ncest shippers get lost

season one. two.

1. THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN

Dean—

[Bobby: So we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?] Well, sold my soul, got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol. (07:04)

[Tamara: I'm heading back to that bar.] I'll go with her. [Sam: It's suicide, Dean!] So what? I'm dead already! (21:27)

[Envy: You really think you're better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone? Huh? What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard of gluttony and lust.] (24:46)

[Sam: Think she's gonna be alright?] No. Definitely not. (34:18)

[Sam: What, you got some kind of death wish or something?] It's not like that. [Then what's it like, Dean?] Sam— [Please. Tell me.] We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welch our way out of the deal in any way, you die. Okay? You die. Those are the terms, there's no way out of it. If you try to find a way, so help me God, I'm gonna stop you. [How could you make that deal, Dean?] 'Cause I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it. [So what, now I live and you die?] That's the general idea, yeah. [Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish.] Yeah, you're right. It was selfish. But I'm okay with that. [I'm not.] Tough. After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled. Truth is, I'm tired, Sam. I don't know, it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel. [It's hellfire, Dean!] Whatever. You're alive, I feel good for the first time in a long time. I got a year to live, Sam, I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell. Huh? (37:12)

Sam—

Look. If we're going down, we're going down together, alright? (27:09)

[Pride: And you...are Sam Winchester. That's right, I've heard of ya. We've all heard of ya. The prodigy, the boy king. Looking at you now, I gotta tell ya.... Don't believe the hype. You think I'm gonna bow to a cut-rate, piss-poor human like you? I have my pride, after all. And now with your yellow-eyed friend dead, I guess I don't really have to do a damn thing now, do I? You're fair game now, boy, and it's open season.] (31:51)

You know what? I've had it. I've been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you, and...I don't care anymore. [Dean: That didn't last long.] Yeah, well, you know what? I've been busting my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean, and you act like you couldn't care less. What, you got some kind of death wish or something? (36:56)

[Dean: I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it.] So what, now I live and you die? [That's the general idea, yeah.] Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish. (37:44)

Misc—

Greed: We're not sins, man. We are natural, human instinct. And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals. Horny, greedy, hungry, violent animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals, too. (25:32)

2. THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

Dean—

[Lisa: You can relax.] Good. [I swear you look disappointed.] Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know, your life. I mean, this house and kid. It's not my life, never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, uh.... Anyway, a guy in my situation—you start to think, you know, "I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?" [I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot, if you ask me.] You know, just for the record, you got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad. (26:18)

Sam—

[Ruby: All I know is that it's about you.] What? [Don't you get it, Sam? It's all about you. What happened to your mom, what happened to her friends—they're trying to cover up what he did to you. And I want to help you figure it out.] Why would you want to help me? [I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I want to help you from time to time. That's all. And if you let me, there's something in it for you.] What could you possibly— [I could help you save your brother.] (40:40)

3. BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK

Dean—

Just Dad. You know, him and his secrets. We spent all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man. (06:20)

Oh wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade. (07:59)

That's what killed your friend. My brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now, if you don't help us stop this thing, then that puts those deaths on your head. Now, I can read people. And I get it. You're a thief and a scumbag. That's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you? (22:46)

So you know the truth about what's really going on out there and this is what you decide to do with it? You become a thief? [Bela: I procure unique items for a select clientele.] Yeah. A thief. (29:46)

So you're only after yourself, huh? It's all about number one? [Bela: Being a hunter is so much more noble? A bunch of obsessed, revenge-driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can't be saved.] Well, aren't you a glass half-full. [We're all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride.] I actually agree with you there. (31:30)

The hell is wrong with you?! You don't just go around shooting people like that! (36:04)

Sam—

[Dean: She knows what your weakness is. It's me.] (03:32)

[Dean: You're okay, right? I mean, you're feeling okay?] Yes, I'm fine! Why are you always asking me that? (04:04)

No way! That's my division championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this! [Dean: It was probably the closest you ever came to being a boy.] (07:45)

4. SIN CITY

Dean—

[Casey: Lose something?] All you demons have such smart mouths. [It's a gift.] Yeah. Well, let's see if you're smiling when I send your ass back to Hell. [Without your little exorcism book? Hey, go ahead.] Spiritus immunde. Ungo— [Having a little trouble there, sport?] Spiritus immunde, undolara. Pasonitote.... [Nice try, but I think you just ordered a pizza. Guess you should've paid more attention in Latin class.] I don't know what you're smiling about. You're not going anywhere. [And, apparently, neither are you.] Yeah, but I got somebody coming for me, and uh, he did pay attention in class. (20:02)

[Casey: You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, you know.] Well. That's...flattering. I'll be sure to let Sam know when he gets here. (20:58)

So demons take over. I thought the meek shall inherit the earth. [Casey: Oh, according to your Bible. It's only a book, Dean.] Not everyone would agree. [Because it's God's book? Do you believe in God, Dean? I'd be surprised if you did.] I don't know. I'd like to. (24:59)

[Casey: You're alright, Dean. The others don't describe you that way. But, you know, you're...you're likable.] A demon likes me. Sorry, I don't know how to respond to that. (29:34)

[Casey: That deal you made to save Sam—a lot of others would mock you for it, think it was weak or stupid. I don't.] It's been kind of liberating, actually. I mean, what's the point in worrying about a future when you don't have one, huh? [Still, a year to live. You're not scared?] No. [Not even a little?] Of course not. (29:50)

Sam—

Oh God. Uh. I'm sorry. That's—just—I think this was just a minor misunderstanding? yeah, okay, um. How 'bout I just—I just leave, 'cause—I'll take these—okay, I'll, uh, I'll leave this for, uh...you, uh...have a nice day? (17:20)

[Dean: Yeah, but I got somebody coming for me, and uh, he did pay attention in class.] [Casey: Oh, right, Sam. Everyone says he's the brains of the outfit.] [Everyone?] [Sure! You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, you know.] (20:46)

Yeah, I like being able to help people. [Father Gil: Ever think about doing anything else?] Like what? [Hm. Anything. You seem like a pretty smart kid. Somehow I see you out in front of the pack. You could do some great things.] I don't know. I like what I'm doing, I guess. [Well, it's your life. Does, um, Dean?] Yeah, Dean. [Does he find trouble often?] Yeah. Yeah, Dean finds his fair share. [Hm. Well, it's a good thing he has you. His brother's keeper.] (30:32)

[Ruby: You're gonna have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage, but it has to be done.] Well, I don't have to like it. [No. You wouldn't be Sam if you did.] (39:24)

Misc—

Casey: You don't get it. All you gotta do is nudge humans in the right direction. Some whiskey here, a hooker there, and they'll walk right into hell with big, fat smiles on their faces. Your kind is corrupt, Dean. Weak. Our will's stronger. That's why we'll win. (23:55)

Casey: What, you think humans have an exclusive on a higher power? [Dean: You have a God?] Sure. His name's Lucifer. [You mean the Devil?] Your word, not ours. "Lucifer" actually means "light bringer." Look it up. Once he was the most beautiful of all God's angels. But God demanded that he bow down before man, and when he refused, God banished him. Tell me, Dean. How do you like bowing before lesser creatures? [Lucifer's really real?] Well, no one's actually seen him, but they say that he made us into what we are, and they say that he'll return. [Oh yeah? And, uh, you believe that?] I've got faith. [Hm.] So, you see? Is my kind really all that different than yours? [Well, except that, uh, demons are evil.] And humans are such a lovable bunch. (26:39)

Casey: [Hell] is a pit of despair. Why do you think we want to come here? (28:02)

Casey: Sam was supposed to be the grand poo-bah and lead the big army, but he hasn't exactly stepped up to the plate, has he? [Dean: Thank God for that.] Again with God. You think this is a good thing? Now you've got chaos, a war without a front, hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown, most of them gunning for your brother. (32:22)

5. BEDTIME STORIES

Dean—

[Sam: I don't understand, Dean, why not?] Because I said so. [We got the Colt now.] Sam— [We can summon the crossroads demon—] We're not summoning anything. [—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!] We don't even know if that'll work! [Well then, we'll just shoot her! If she dies, the deal goes away!] We don't know if that will work either, Sam! All you're pitching me right now are a bunch of "if's" and "maybe's," and that's not good enough! Because if we screw with this deal, you die! [And if we don't screw with it, you die!] Sam, enough! I'm not gonna have this conversation! [Why, because you said so?] Yes, because I said so! [Well, you're not Dad!] No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. You gotta let this go, you understand me? (03:46)

[Sam: Is that what you want me to do, Dean? Just let you go?] (33:26)

Sam—

[Kyle: Those were my brothers. This guy, he killed my brothers. How would you feel?] Can't imagine anything worse. (06:34)

Look, Callie is killing people. She's angry. She's desperate because nobody will listen to her. So you have to listen to her. Please. Listen to your daughter. (29:28)

[Crossroads Demon: Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him.] Watch your mouth. [Admit it—you're here going through the motions, but truth is, you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone.] Shut up. [No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally be free.] I said, shut up. [Huh. Doth protest too much, if you ask me.] (37:15)

6. RED SKY AT MORNING

Dean—

Somebody stole my car?! [Sam: Hey hey hey, calm down.] I am calmed down! Somebody stole my— *nearly has a heart attack* (08:15)

[Bela: He can't be saved in time, and you know it.] Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so we're gonna try. (12:39)

Hey, Bela, how did you get like this, huh? What, did Daddy not give you enough hugs or something? [Bela: I don't know. Your Daddy not give you enough? Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're no better than I am.] We help people. [Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer.] (12:57)

This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so— [Sam: We can crash anything, Dean.] Yeah, I know, but this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining. (21:57)

I'm thinking. [Bela: Don't strain yourself. Interesting, how the legend is so much more than the man.] (23:12)

Screw you. [Bela: Very Oscar Wilde.] (24:32)

So ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you? You're so damaged. [Bela: Takes one to know one.] (38:08)

Hey, listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um...I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon. You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing. I mean, I'm not blind. I see what you're going through with this whole deal. Me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay. [Sam: You think so?] Yeah, you'll keep hunting. You know, you'll live your life. You're stronger than me. You are! You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for...putting you through all this, I am. (38:56)

[Sam: That's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you're dying.] (39:52)

Sam—

[Dean: It was a stupid friggin' risk, you shouldn't have done it.] I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother. No matter what you do, I'm gonna try to save you, and I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright? (04:32)

[Dean: Can I shoot her?] Not in public. (09:55)

[Dean: You can't save everybody, Sam.] Yeah, right. S—so, what? You feel better now or what? [No, not really.] Yeah, me neither. [You gotta under—] Just lately I feel like I can't save anybody. (16:24)

[Dean: I can't believe she got another one over on us.] You. [What?] I mean—I mean, she got one over on you, not us. [Thank you, Sam. Very helpful. (31:12)

[Dean: You're gonna be okay.] You think so? [Yeah, you'll keep hunting. You know, you'll live your life. You're stronger than me. You are! You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for...putting you through all this, I am.] You know what, Dean? Go screw yourself. [What?] I don't want an apology from you. And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself. [Oh, well, excuse me.] So would you please quit worrying about me? I mean, that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you're dying. (39:20)

Misc—

[Sam: What'd you do, Bela?] Bela: You wouldn't understand. No one did. Nevermind. I'll just do what I've always done. I'll deal with it myself. [Dean: You do realize you just sold the only thing that could save your life.] I'm aware. (34:01)

7. FRESH BLOOD

Dean—

[Sam: There you are!] Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice. [Nice move back there, Dean, running right at the weapons.] Well, what can I say? I'm a badass. (14:02)

I want you to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it. [Sam: Well, Dean, you're not going by yourself. You're gonna get yourself killed!] Just another day at the office. It's a massively dangerous day at the office. [So what, you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh, wait. Let me guess. Because uh.... It's because you're already dead, right?] If the shoe fits. [You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your old, stupid kamikaze trip.] Whoa, whoa. Kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja. [That's not funny.] It's a little funny. [No, it's not.] What do you want me to do, Sam? Huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see. What rhymes with "Shut up, Sam"? [Dude. Drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.] I'm not. [You're lying! And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.] You got no idea what you're talking about. [Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out and you're still going to Hell and you're freaked.] And how do you know that? [Because I know you!] Really? [Yeah, because I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to since I was four, Dean—studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And I mean, I can't blame you. It's just....] What? [It's just, I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again, 'cause.... Just 'cause.] (28:16)

That's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes? (39:01)

Sam—

[Dean: And how do you know that?] Because I know you! [Really?] Yeah, because I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to since I was four, Dean—studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And I mean, I can't blame you. It's just.... [What?] It's just, I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again, 'cause.... Just 'cause. (29:17)

[Gordon: You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer.] Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice. [I don't.] Yes, you do, Gordon. (34:03)

Misc—

Gordon: We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is, walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna! As soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds: killing you, and killing myself. (34:56)

8. A VERY SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS

Dean—

Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa. [Sam: Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember?] (04:57)

Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year. [Sam: Have one what?] A Christmas! [No, thanks.] No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston Market—just like when we were little. [Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know?] What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases! [Whose childhood are you talking about?] Oh, come on, Sam. [No! Just...no.] Alright, Grinch. (05:43)

[Sam: I'm old enough, Dean. You can tell me the truth.] You don't wanna know the truth. Believe me. [Is that why we never talk about...Mom?] Shut up! Don't you ever talk about Mom! Ever! (07:32)

Why are you the boy that hates Christmas? [Sam: Dean—] I mean, I admit it, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids. [Bumpy?] That was then! We'll do it right this year. (10:24)

Remember that wreath Dad brought home thy one year? [Sam: You mean the one he stole from like, a liquor store?] Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it. (18:30)

[Sam: Alright. Dude. What's going on with you?] What? [I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad?] Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic? [No, that has nothing to do with it.] Then what? [I mean, I just—I don't get it. I—you haven't talked about Christmas in years.] Well, yeah? This is my last year. (18:47)

We have the coolest dad in the world. He's a superhero. [Sam: He is?] Yeah. Monsters are real. Dad fights 'em. He's fighting them right now. [But Dad said the monsters under my bed weren't real.] That's 'cause he'd already checked under there. (21:20)

Sam—

[Dean: Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa.] Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember? (04:57)

[Dean: Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year.] Have one what? [A Christmas!] No, thanks. [No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston Market—just like when we were little.] Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know? [What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases!] Whose childhood are you talking about? [Oh, come on, Sam.] No! Just...no. (05:43)

Alright. Dude. What's going on with you? [Dean: What?] I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad? [Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?] No, that has nothing to do with it. [Then what?] I mean, I just—I don't get it. I—you haven't talked about Christmas in years. [Well, yeah? This is my last year.] I know. That's why I can't. [What do you mean?] I mean, I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead. I just can't. (18:47)

[Edward: You, mister, better show us a little respect.] Or what? You'll eat us? (29:29)

Here. Take this. [Dean: No. No, that's for Dad.] Dad lied to me. I want you to have it. [You sure?] I'm sure. (37:02)

9. MALLEUS MALEFICARUM

Dean—

I hate witches. They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. [Sam: Pretty much.] It's creepy, you know, it's downright unsanitary! (05:05)

[Ruby: Why are you even a part of this conversation?] Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank! [Oh, right, right! And you care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?] Shut up. [At least let me try and save him since you won't be here to do it anymore.] I said shut up! (19:22)

It tasted like ass. (24:36)

So all of them? Every damn demon, they were all human once? [Ruby: Everyone I've ever met.] Well, they sure don't act like it. [Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is: forgetting what you are.] Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks. [It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit, agonies you can't even imagine.] No, I saw Hellraiser. I get the gist. [Actually, they got that pretty close, except for all the custom leather. The answer is yes, by the way.] Sorry? [Yes, the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity. Every Hell-bound soul, everyone turns into someone else. Turns you into us, so yeah—yeah, you can count on it.] There's no way of saving me from the pit, is there? [No.] (35:42)

Sam—

They need to be stopped. [Dean: Stopped like, stopped? They're human, Sam.] They're murderers. (17:49)

[Dean: Are you feeling okay?] Why are you always asking me that? [Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people, you know. It used to eat you up inside.] Yeah? And what has that gotten me? [Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the freaking car and freaking argue about this stuff! You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap.] Wait, so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you? [No, I'm not mad! I'm—I'm...I'm worried, Sam, because you're not acting like yourself.] Yeah, you're right, I'm not! I don't have a choice! (20:45)

Look, Dean, you're leaving, right? And I gotta stay here in this crap hole of a world. Alone. So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change. [Change into what?] Into you. I got to be more like you. (21:25)

10. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

Dean—

Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat. [I'm serious, Dean.] No, you're drunk. [I mean, where you're going, what you're gonna become. I can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you.] What I've been telling you. [No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't want to be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself? What's wrong with you?] (03:16)

You gotta snap out of this now. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. I'm not gonna let you die, you're like a father to me. You gotta believe me, please! [Bobby: I'm breathing?] Yes! Now take control of it! (22:30)

Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now! (25:59)

Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun. [Nightmare Dean: We need to talk.] I get it, I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare. That it, huh? Kinda like the Superman III junkyard scene—a little mano y mano with myself? [Joke all you want, smartass, but you can't lie to me. I know the truth. I know how dead you are inside, how worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror, and hate what you see.] Sorry, pal. It's not gonna work. You're not real. [Sure I am. I'm you.] I don't think so. 'Cause see, this is my siesta. Not yours. All I gotta do is snap my fingers, and you go bye-bye. [I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you. Like I said, we need to talk.] (30:37)

[Nightmare Dean: I mean, you're going to Hell, and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem! Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now, is it?] Come on, Dean, come on, wake up. [I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.] That's not true. [No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car—that's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket—Dad's. Your music—Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is, is "Watch out for Sammy. Look after your brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell.] Just shut up. [I mean, think about it. All he ever did was train you, boss you around. But Sam—Sam, he doted on. Sam, he loved.] I mean it, I'm getting angry. [Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?] Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam—that was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He's the one who let Mom die! Who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! It wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me, and I don't deserve to go to Hell! (33:21)

[Nightmare Demon Dean: You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this? This is what you're gonna become! (35:32)

The thing is...I don't want to die. I don't want to go to Hell. [Sam: Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you.] Okay, good. (38:40)

Sam—

[Dean: There you are. What are you doing?] Having a drink. [It's 2:00 in the afternoon. Drinking whiskey?] I drink whiskey all the time.] No you don't. [What's the big deal? You get sloppy in bars. You hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?] It's kinda slim pickings around here. What's going on with you?] (02:50)

I tried, Dean. [Dean: To do what?] To save you. [Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat.] I'm serious, Dean. [No, you're drunk.] I mean, where you're going, what you're gonna become. I can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you. [What I've been telling you.] No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't want to be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself? What's wrong with you? (03:16)

[Dean: The thing is...I don't want to die. I don't want to go to Hell.] Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you. (38:40)

Misc—

Jeremy: You know what that's like? Not to be able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for 15 years. [Sam: And let me guess. That's makes you go crazy.] I just want to be left alone. I just want to dream. (32:32)

11. MYSTERY SPOT

Dean—

[Sam: Twice now, I've watched you die. And I can't. I won't do it again, okay? And you're just gonna have to believe me. Please.] Alright. I still think you're nuts, but...okay. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out. (11:44)

Wait, did he.... [Sam: Yesterday, yeah.] And? [And what?] Did it look cool like in the movies? [You peed yourself.] Of course I peed myself. A man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control of his bladder? Come on! (13:05)

Sam—

Twice now, I've watched you die. And I can't. I won't do it again, okay? And you're just gonna have to believe me. Please. (11:44)

[Gabriel: How long will it take you to realize you can't save your brother, no matter what?] (26:17)

[Bobby: Call me, Sam. We can find it together. No one man should take something like this on alone. You hear me?] (30:17)

[Bobby: I thought you'd back down from killing a man.] Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff, I'll do it myself. [I told you, I'm not gonna let you kill anyone—] It's none of your damn business what I do! (32:11)

[Gabriel: Let me tell ya. Whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands.] (34:50)

[Gabriel: Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish, Cro-Magnon skull of yours.] Lesson? What lesson? [This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. The bad guys know it, too. He's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.] He's my brother. [Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him.] Please, just.... Please. [I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall.] (35:36)

Misc—

Gabriel!Bobby: You and Dean, you...you boys are the closest thing I have to family. (32:18)

12. JUS IN BELLO

Dean—

[Henriksen: Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place.] (08:20)

It's kind of wild, right? I mean, it's like they're coming right for us. They've never done that before. It's like we got a contract on us. Think it's because we're so awesome? I think it's 'cause we're so awesome. (16:37)

[Henriksen: Can you guys beat it? Can you win?] Honestly, I think the world's gonna end bloody. But it doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin'. [Plus you got nothing to go home to but your brother.] Yeah. (26:00)

[Ruby: This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue.] I got virtue. [Nice try. You're not a virgin.] Nobody's a virgin! No. No way. You're kidding me, r—? You're— [Nancy: What? It's a choice, okay?] Wh— S—so you've never—not even once? I mean, not even.... Wow! (29:18)

Please tell me you're not actually considering this. We're talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her heart. [Sam: And we're also talking about 30 people out there, Dean—innocent people, who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here.] It doesn't mean that we throw away the rulebook and stop acting like humans. I'm not gonna let that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl who hasn't even been laid. I mean, look, if that's how you win wars, then I don't want to win. [Then what? What do we do, Dean?] I got a plan. I'm not saying it's a good one, I'm not even saying that it'll work, but it sure as hell beats killing a virgin. (31:25)

Sam—

*Dean gets shot.* Alright, don't be such a wuss. (13:54)

[Dean: Who sent 'em?] [Ruby: You didn't tell Dean? Wow, I'm surprised.] [Tell me what?] [There's a big new up-and-comer. Real pied piper.] [Who is he?] [Not he. Her. Her name is Lilith.] [Lilith?] [And she really, really wants Sam's intestines on a stick. Guess she sees him as competition.] [You knew about this? Well, gee, Sam, is there anything else I should know?] (27:32)

So you're just gonna leave? [Ruby: Hey! I was gonna kill myself to help you win. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you lose. And I'm disappointed, because I tried. I really did. But clearly, I bet on the wrong horse.] (32:30)

13. GHOSTFACERS

Dean—

Alright, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean.... [Maggie: Um, I, uh.... Well, yeah. Uh, yeah, I think so.] Oh. (19:31)

[Sam: World just isn't ready for the Ghostfacers.] That's too bad. I kind of liked the show. [Had its moments.] (40:29)

Sam—

Yeah! I mean, it's bizarre how y'all are able to, uh, to honor Corbett's memory while grossly exploiting the manner of his death. Well done. [Dean: Yeah, it's a real tight rope you're walking.] (38:56)

Well, um, our experience—you know what you get when you show the world the truth? [Dean: A straitjacket. Or a punch in the face. Sometimes both.] (39:08)

Misc—

Harry: Ed.... You gotta go be gay for that poor dead intern. You gotta send him into the light. (32:54)

Ed: Gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. (37:15)

14. LONG DISTANCE CALL

Dean—

[Sam: So you two were talking a case?] No, we were actually talking about our feelings and then our favorite boy bands. Yeah, we're talking a case! (04:22)

What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? [Sam: What do you mean?] What do I say? (15:28)

[John: Dean, how could you do it?] Do what? [Sell your soul.] I was looking after Sammy, like you told me to. [I never wanted this, never. You're my boy. I love you. I can't watch you go go Hell, Dean.] I'm sorry. I don't know how to stop it. (18:18)

The man is dead, and you're still butting heads with the guy! [Sam: That's not what this is about.] Then what is it? [The fact is, we got no hard proof here, Dean! After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!] Yeah! Well, maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay? (23:16)

I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way out of this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I'm just.... [Sam: Yeah.] I'm scared, Sam. I'm really scared. [I know.] I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, last act of a desperate man. [There's nothing wrong with having hope, you know?] Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know. And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me. [Sam: And me.] "And me?" [What?] Deep revelation, having a real moment here, that's what you come back with? "And me?" [Do you want a poem?] Moment's gone. (38:07)

Sam—

[Dean: Wow, you know, you'd think a Stanford education and a high school hookup rate of 0.0 would produce better results than that.] Hilarious. (16:03)

There's nothing wrong with having hope, you know. [Dean: Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know? And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.] And me. ["And me?"] What? [Deep revelation, having a real moment here, and that's what you come back with? "And me?"] Do you want a poem? [Moment's gone.] (38:46)

15. TIME IS ON MY SIDE

Dean—

[Rufus: You know, I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the gods, I'm telling you.] Yeah, it's a nice change, you know. Most of my whiskey comes from a plastic jug. (18:08)

[Rufus: I know ain't no peashooter gonna save you.] What makes you so sure? ['Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us, there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming.] (19:05)

[Rufus: You do her ear?] Hey, man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know, that sounds uncomfortable. (21:24)

[Bela: You're not the cold-blooded type.] You mean like you? That's true. See, I couldn't imagine killing my own parents. (28:20)

Look, this is simple. [Sam: Simple?] To me, it is, okay? Black or white—human, not human. (36:39)

Sam—

[Dean: Are you coming or not?] I'm staying here. [No, you're not. Because I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ-stealing freak.] You're not gonna let me? [No, I'm not gonna let you.] How are you gonna stop me? (15:12)

16. NO REST FOR THE WICKED

Dean—

[Bobby: Ain’t you just bringing down the room?] Well, it’s a gift. [Sam: I’m sorry, so then, what are we supposed to do, Dean?] Look, just ‘cause I gotta die doesn’t mean you have to, okay? We—either we go in smart, or we don’t go in at all. (05:01)

[Sam: Then give me another option, Dean. I mean, tell me what else!] [Bobby: Sam’s right—] No! Damn it! Just no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again. You guys want to save me, find something else. (05:42)

Oh, I knew you’d show up. ‘Cause I knew Sam wouldn’t listen! But you’re not gonna teach him anything. You understand me? Over my dead body. (10:29)

[Ruby: So you’re just too stupid to live, is that it? Then fine! You deserve hell! And I wish I could be there, Dean. I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones. I wish I could be there to hear you scream!] And I wish you’d shut your piehole, but we don’t always get what we want. (12:25)

Sam, we are not gonna make the same mistake all over again. [Sam: You said that, but what does that even mean?] Don’t you see a pattern here? Dad’s deal, my deal, now this? I mean, every time one of us is—is up the creek, the other is begging to sell their soul. That’s all this is, man. Ruby’s just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it’s paved with, and you know where it’s going. (13:43)

Sammy, all I’m saying is that you’re my weak spot. You are. And I’m yours. [Sam: You don’t mean that. We’re—we’re family.] I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it, too. I mean, what we’ll do for each other, you know, how far we’ll go, they’re using that against us. [So, what, we just stop looking out for each other?] No, we stop being martyrs, man. We stop spreading it for these demons. We take this knife, and we go after Lilith our way, the way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, uh…then we go down swinging. What do you think? [I think you totally should’ve been jamming “Eye of the Tiger” right there.] Oh, bite me. I totally rehearsed that speech, too. (14:39)

[Sam: You know, if this doesn’t, uh…. If this doesn’t go the way we want, I want you to know that—] No, no no no no no no. [No what?] You’re not gonna bust out the misty goodbye speech, okay? I mean, if this is my last day on Earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward. (19:54)

[Sam: I’m not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!] Yes, you are! Yes, you are. I’m sorry. I mean, this is all my fault. I know that. But what you’re doing, it’s not gonna save me. It’s only gonna kill you. [Then what am I supposed to do?] Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you, okay? And remember what I taught you. (32:36)

Sam—

We’re gonna get this done. I don’t care what it takes, Dean. You’re not gonna go to Hell. I’m not gonna let you. I swear. Everything’s gonna be okay. (03:21)

[Ruby: Sam, you’ve got some God-given talent. Well, not God-given, but you get the gist.] All that psychic crap? That’s gone ever since Yellow Eyes died. [Not gone. Dormant. And not just visions, either. Why do you think Lilith’s so scared of you?] Right. She’s scared of me. (09:06)

[Ruby: You don’t like being different. You hate the way Dean looks at you sometimes, like you’re some sort of sideshow freak.] (09:50)

What are you afraid’s gonna happen? This is me. I can handle it. And if it’ll save you— [Dean: Why even risk it?] Because you’re my brother. And because you did the same thing for me. [I know. And look how that turned out. All I’m saying…. Sammy, all I’m saying is that you’re my weak spot. You are. And I’m yours.] You don’t mean that. We’re—we’re family. [I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it, too. I mean, what we’ll do for each other, you know, how far we’ll go, they’re using that against us.] So, what, we just stop looking out for each other? [No, we stop being martyrs, man. We stop spreading it for these demons. We take this knife, and we go after Lilith our way, the way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, uh…then we go down swinging. What do you think?] I think you totally should’ve been jamming “Eye of the Tiger” right there. (14:11)

There’s got to be something. There’s got to be some way. What—whatever it is, I’ll do it! Don’t—Dean! I’m not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean! (32:32)

Misc—

[Dean: This is about me and Sam, okay? This isn’t your fight.] Bobby: The hell it isn’t! Family don’t end with blood, boy. (18:50)

[temperate-rainforest]

Cannot believe I'm saying this, but destiel is canon and I actually love how it was portraid and this why:

Dean was in shock, horrified and devastated, Jensen showed that all from his small "nos" with the shake of his head, to going white as a sheet once it really sunk in and crying. He is someone who has had severe trauma since birth, as Cas said. Dean raised his own brother, as a child himself with no one else, knowing and preparing for the only way his baby brother would live and hardened himself, creating a desonence between his emotions and what "needs to be done" which (I have this so don't jump me) definitely turned into an ultra Independence trauma response to it all. Jensen acted ✨phenomenally✨ according to all of that. Dean compulsively keeps people out of arms length because he can't have anyone to challenge what he believes kept him, his brother, and everyone else alive. So of course he would gawk at someone saying they REALLY know and LOVE him and proving it all in one go.

Cas was right, Dean sees himself as their enemies do. This changes him all the way down to self-worth and who he is to himself and who he can be to the world. Selfless, he is smart, never forgetting his company's own history in this moment, and the baffling history they share.

An angel, of the devine creation, born in the beginning of time with a God his sisters, brothers, and others didn't agree with and lost faith in. All ended up killing, dying, and being eternally punished for the God. However, Cas heard all of the prayers of, for years, a HUMAN he really believes in unlike the god who created him. Castiel was able to become free from heavans birdcage with love, admiration, care, respect, joy, self-assurance, and so much more.

Dean freed Cas, and Cas freed Dean the same day they met. Every day the flame becoming alive between them. They know this too, but unlike Dean, Cas feels that the freedom of expressing it all made him happy enough that he doesn't care about being caged away again because he finally was spiritually free. His search was over, his longing and desire to finally be free. He found his belief and died for it, happily. Dean and love. Love that Dean taught him.

Dean is angry, rightfully so that Cas would confess this way to him and do this to him. Cas knows this two, matching his anger at himself for a moment, before the apologetic/loving/guilty/revelation crying mixed with the fact that neither of them can stop the rush of pure happiness at the connection.

Once Cas is gone, Dean literally almost passes out after losing this. You cannot tell me this man didn't look like he is in shock, disoriented, disassociative and we see his face pale before he slowly tries to comfort himself after ignoring his brothers call definitely breathing super shallow and fast. Panic attack at losing the love of his life, /his MORTAL/ life and feeling guilty for an immortal angel to be eaten by nothing.

I am baffled people think this was homophobic in any way, and this is coming from someone who stopped watching SPN years ago and literally moved onto better written fiction and went to school for it.

THIS is a BEAUTIFUL Greek tragedy, an immaculate Shakespearian Romantic tragedy, a beautiful work of art that I found myself comparing to the works and studies I've done on classic literature and media throughout history

I think everyone on the internet needs to take a breath and realize they are starting to put everything into boxes that I think are compulsory reactions and perceptions influenced by the world around them both personally or not.

This was a masterpiece.

Don't @ me. You're wrong.

Go read Shakespeare or Homer or Oscar Wilde or fucking something. Educate yourself.

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 32

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,507

Warnings: Subby Spencer, cock cages, orgasm denial, 

A/N: The next entry for @cm-kinkbingo​ run by my beautiful girlfriend @heycasbutt​. This fulfills my cock cages square.

Ironically enough it’s you that settles into your new routine fairly easily. Spencer is the one having a hard time adjusting. As per usual, he’s teaching an insane number of classes (probably due to the fact that you’re now working part time so you can spend more time at home) and trying to be a present father to a nearly three-year-old toddler and two four and a half month old babies. It’s a lot to handle.

After grading papers one night, finishing up just as you get the kids to bed, Spencer turns to you in desperation. “I’m losing it,” he says matter of factly, laughing at how exasperated he sounds.

Giggling, you walk up behind him and bend down, wrapping your arms around him, your fingers trailing the little bit of chest hair peeking out from his shirt. “What can I do for you, love?”

“I want you to help me shut my brain off.” He hesitates, clearly having an idea of his own, but decides to put the ball in your court. “Have anything in mind?”

“I do,” you say, whispering in his ear. “Remember that cock cage I bought? Wanna experiment?”

Even after all you’ve done and all you’ve seen of each other, physically and emotionally, he still blushes. “What were you thinking?”

Twirling around to sit in his lap, you tell about all the research you’ve been doing in case he’d ever want to venture down this road. “Nothing much for tonight. Just locking you up and seeing how you like it. If you do like it, we can play around with your wearing it for an increasing amount of time over a couple of days. And then if you still like it, I have an idea for what we can do next week.” Your eyes gleam with the picture in your head and it makes Spencer laugh.

“Sounds good to me.” You pull him up by his shirt and drag him toward the bedroom, kissing him all the way before you turn around to search through the closet, finally finding what you’re looking for.

“We need a locked chest for this stuff now. I DO NOT want Charlotte exploring through our things and finding this,” you laugh.

“Oh, fuck no.” Spencer falls back onto the bed from laughing so hard, only ceasing his laughter when you clear your throat, the cage in hand. “Oh, that does look scary. But I’m intrigued.”

Getting it on and secure is...a feat. But you manage. “You’ll wear it until we go to bed in a couple hours. And if you like it, then you’ll put it on tomorrow as soon as you come home.”

“Mmmhmm,” he says, mumbling into your mouth as you press a chaste kiss on his lips. Don’t want him getting worked up right now.

“Now go fold laundry while I do the dishes.” You slap his leg playfully.

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs.

After finishing up in the kitchen, you find Spencer in your room putting away clothes, but as he moves to grab a hanger from the closet, he stops, stilling himself and taking a deep breath. “You okay?” You ask.

Spencer nods. “Just umm...trying to control myself,” he laughs softly. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

“You’re in for a rough week,” you reply.

---

Over the next few days, Spencer returns home and immediately puts on the cage, asking you periodically if he can take it off and touch himself, to which you consistently reply no. It’s on day five that you challenge him to wear it to his late night class.

He texts you later while his class is taking a test. “This is hard.” His text states simply.

“What? Your cock? Or wearing the cage?” You smile to yourself as the three bubbles indicate his reply.

“Both. Can I please, please come when I get home? It’s been five days and I want to explode.”

You tease him so more, telling him that he’s gone longer without an orgasm before.

“Yes, but I was physically restricted from doing so! Please?!”

“Mayyyybe.”

A few hours later, he returns home, practically begging on his hands and knees. Sitting down and tugging him up onto the couch next to you, you comb your hand through his soft brown hair, reveling in the desperation that lurks in his eyes. “How about this? I give you one more test. You pass, you come. You don’t pass, you don’t come for another two days?”

Spencer’s eyes go dark, you can tell his dominant side is fighting with the lack of control, but he does want this and he knows you do too. “What’s the test?”

“After we get the kids to bed tonight, I put a timer on my phone. If you can make me come, with just your tongue, in under three minutes, I’ll take that cage off you and suck your soul out through your cock. If it takes you more than three minutes, I still get to come and you have to wait two days.”

With a strained yet gleeful smile, Spencer gives you a kiss. “You’re on. Meanie.”

“So mean.”

Thankfully for Spencer, it’s easy getting Charlotte, Morgan and Blake to bed. You place Blake down and quickly pull out your phone, setting a timer and showing it to Spencer as he gently lays Morgan down on the soft crib mattress.

Quietly but quickly, your desperate-as-all-hell husband yanks on your hand, practically throwing you over his shoulder as he runs toward the bedroom. When he throws you down on the bed, you screech with laughter, muffling the sounds with your hand as Spencer yanks your pajama pants down and off, flinging them against the wall. He removes his pants and you see him straining against the cage. It can’t be comfortable. His hair is a mess, his eyes are almost black with lust and he looks like a maniac, but you both laugh through it all. “Hit that timer. Because it’s happening.”

As soon as your finger hits the timer, Spencer wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you toward the end of the bed so your ass is sitting at the edge.

“Hands behind your back, Sir. I said no hands.”

Although he’s losing his mind, he knows what it takes to make you scream, starting out slowly, his tongue swirling around your clit, teeth scraping, lips pursing. His shoulders are tense with the pressure of keeping his hands behind his back. But he manages, watching as the numbers tick down on the timer. As soon as it hits two minutes, he licks stripes up your pussy from ass to clit, nipping at you with his teeth along the way.

You buck into his mouth, whimpering when he almost buries himself in you, tongue wildly fucking into you. “Fuck, so good, Spence. You’ve only got 45 seconds left. But I have faith.”

Growling into you, Spencer pushes himself into you still, the tip of his nose putting pressure on your clit as his tongue thrashes from side to side. He smiles when you grab his hair, your legs clamping down around him. “Good boy,” you say huskily.

You grasp his face in your hands and pull him toward you, tonguing into his mouth. “Sit. You’ve been a good boy.”

Spencer does as he told and collapses back, his cock twitching at the slightest touch as you remove the cage. You drop to your knees between his legs and move from domme to sub once again with ease, looking lovingly up at him as you speak. “Would you like to use my mouth, Sir? I think you’ve earned it.”

Grunting, he grabs your head and demands you open your mouth. When he thrusts up into your mouth, you gag and laugh, which only makes him more crazed. His hands are firm, keeping your head in place while he uses your mouth, his thrusts so erratic that he stands up and pushes your head against the dresser, each thrust softly knocking your head into the wood behind you. “Going to come down that little throat. You going to swallow it like a good little slut?”

The moment you mumble your answer around him, he seizes above you, the tangy taste of him hitting the back of your throat. Gulping it down, you look up and smile. His look of pure relief is everything you wanted for him when you started this whole thing a week ago. All that exists in his mind is you and the warm heat of your mouth. Maybe he knows your name and his, but that’s about it.

Pulling off him with a satisfied pop, you stand up and wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a kiss. “So, did I help you shut your brain off?”

Spencer smiles, his voice unable to say what his brain wants.

“You want to use that again some time?” You ask, eyeing the cage on the floor.

He answers with an emphatic yes.

Success.

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn​ @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid​ @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1​ @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid​ @lazynoodledragon​ @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97​ @grace-superpowers​ @softestlavender​ @ssa-dr-ladylock​ @drprettyboy​ @patricks-fabulous-face​ @tearosaria​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @marvels-gurl​ @gublergirls​

[mlobsters]

supernatural s11e9 o brother where art thou? (w. eugenie ross-leming, brad buckner)

well i know this episode name and a vague idea something big goes down

saw her face and thought she was familiar but couldn't place her, but out in full lighting i was like whoa that's some deep cleavage oh hey it must be grown up amara who i also noted oddly lit cleavage

LOL please. this angle in that dress. anyway she must have been a busy bee all powered up like this

yes god is sending you messages that involve lucifer gently stroking your cheek,

the um, communicating via burning bush is also a little on the nose

i don't understand why they used this perspective for this argument. slight angled down and in hint of fisheye, it gives like, dream/drunk/incapacitated but then they pull out and they're just sitting at the library table. weird.

DEAN Because it’s crazy, okay! And it’s not going to happen. How many times do I have to say that this is a horrible idea? SAM About as many as I have to say, okay then what else have we got? Listen, I’m all ears. Dean, ordinarily I’d agree with you, but the visions only happen when I reach out to God. I asked him for a way to beat the Darkness and the visions got more specific – and I was in the Cage.

what radio station do prayers play on? angel radio? mentally turning myself in circles "well if you pray to god specifically which isn't that what people do? but don't the angels get prayers in this show? but how does that get divvied up [ad nauseam]" anyWAY. the point being, couldn't an angel pick this up so just because he's specifying god and he knows how to pray to specific angels, unless they have some exception routing for pople In The Know that prefacing with a specific deity or angel means only communicating with the one channel LOL (watch it be no, that's not how prayer works on spn, go to bed)

SAM You know Lucifer was the biggest monster ever hatched, until you and I hatched one that’s even worse. Listen, in the vision, Lucifer touches me and I feel calm, like things will be all right. And that’s not something I would ever come up with. I mean that is the last thing that I would ever feel. DEAN If Lucifer touched you, it would be the last thing you think. Ever.

the whole we hatched something worse thing. how everything is a flaming ball of garbage that just briefly gets put out but oops now we have this bigger and worse problem. i know, that's this show, it's how it works. anyway, i keep reading this and not getting it. like, last thing you think because if lucifer got a hold of him again he'd kill sam?

DEAN Why would God even ask this of you? What proof do we have that any of this is actually real?

okay but shouldn't the question not be real but, who is this coming from? who would have motivation to get you back in the cage? WORK THE PROBLEM, FELLAS

SAM There was a burning bush. DEAN A burning bush? SAM Like in the Bible. DEAN You were in the forest. There are bushes there and sometimes they burn!

okay my official story to myself, because i think the way he keeps treating sam like he's crazy is aggravating horseshit, dean's doing this because he's freaked the fuck out about sam going back in the cage and can't think straight.

SAM Dean, doesn’t it make sense? I mean, Lucifer would know how God ended the Darkness. He was there.

he's got a little snarky thing on the "he was there" but like, if god is talking to you in this scenario and telling you to go chat up lucifer to find out how to whammy the darkness... shouldn't god cut out the middle man and tell you directly? i'm confused. if this were like, Serious about god show, i'd get the whole test of faith or what the fuck ever, but not on this show? where we had gods meeting up at a hotel for a conference in 5x19

i think i'm gonna watch this tomorrow when thinking clearly :S all right, take 2.

CROWLEY (speaking to DEAN) Because she chose you. And you couldn’t control your girlfriend. What happened in that room? Why did she insist on sparing you? SAM looks quizzically at DEAN and then CROWLEY. CROWLEY What is she to you?

outed on the lie (fucking finally) by crowley, good job, dean.

okay so i had not considered going back to the cage was like, for a little interview. we'll pop in, ask some questions, pop out. whatcha think, crowley?? like how are you going in and also coming out? with all the hoopla required to get in there the first time and the mishap getting sam out.

probably just that it's organ but this music in the big reveal is reminding me of interstellar (2014) cornfield chase (great now i'm crying over that)

anna lapwood plays it on the organ

CROWLEY Clearly, if Sam enters the Cage he’s gone. And yes, it’s on my bucket list, now is not the time to be selfish. Need a secure site, a way to neutralize Lucifer’s powers. SAM In Hell? CROWLEY Yes, in Hell! So we have a modicum of control. You think I want that abomination running amuck upstairs? DEAN Is it possible to control the situation because if Sam’s not safe it’s not happening. CROWLEY Goodness mummy, loosen the grip.

of course we need the book of the damned. gotta get everyone back in the fold. and the angels are gonna try yet again to do .... something 😪 this show can't get enough heavenly politics. is that the fault of cas being so well liked?

rowena having a moment over the lucifer reveal

needed this angle again, apparently. for artistic reasons clearly

SAM You’re sitting there with the Book of the Damned and the means to read every word, and you think I’m going to set you free? Do I look crazy? ROWENA Well, you do have unresolved issues with your domineering older brother and the abandonment by your father.

so helpful. she trying to prod him a little to go it alone?

okay so i guess we just didn't have time to talk about dean lying about his and amara's thing, sam made a couple faces and we're moving on. and dean is ignoring sam's call because apparently we need to go to hell RIGHT NOW OR NEVER for no good reason other than getting sam to go alone. so dean can have A Moment with amara. i have a hard time caring about the new random villians of the season they spin up

looks so tiny next to sam

for the record i think this is a whole mess of plot contrivances and i'm not jazzed :p

ROWENA He’s so alpha isn’t he? Probably not relationship material though.

oh no. sam, don't tell lucifer god is talking to you. are we having a little gaslighting parallel where lucifer and amara try to do their little sales pitches to sam and dean

AMARA He encouraged religions as monuments to his ego, promised the fearful safety if they’d adore him. His way or the highway. DEAN Some people find comfort in that. Golden rule, Brother’s keeper. It is his universe. His rules.

me trying to scrape together the 3 brain cells that have any knowledge of christianity. (ok, do unto others blah blah is the golden rule; brother's keeper - well that's what cain says after killing him and god asks where he is? and he's like bro i'm not in charge of him. so i don't get the reference other than the general cain and abel of it all in spn generally and the Brother Drama and falling down on the keeperism at the moment)

LUCIFER And, I need a ride out of here. I mean, I look swell in here and everything, but I’d be so much smoke top-side.

mmmk.

LUCIFER One who is strong enough to hold me, handy, and available now. Catch my drift?

creepy flirting. are adam/michael still chilling alone in the cage elsewhere?

appreciate the effort but did dean think stabbing her with a regular old knife was going to do anything?

can't eat your soul so i guess let's make out

sammy, what are you thinking

so it was lucifer sending the visions, surprise surprise. continue to be disappointed with the way we got here because i think sam knows better, and if he's not running on all cylinders due to the lucifer involvement, dean is his sanity check. big sigh

it is nice to see mark pellegrino, he does a great job with lucifer. one thing i will put blinders on about is lucifer's repeated references to sexually assaulting sam during his time in the cage. (and this episode ended with a question about sharing bunks)

[rupertgayesarchive]

HELLO so I saw u rb'd my Director's Commentary thing and I recognized ur ao3 handle and saw u wrote Heard From Your Mother so I have to say: I haven't read your fic though it's been in my to-read pile for ages (it looks amazing and right up my alley, so I will get to it eventually I promise!). That being said, if you were to write a list of your favorite moments in the fic and why they were your favorites, perhaps to psych up readers such as myself to plunge in to over 200k, I would LOVE to see it. Not quite director's commentary in the traditional sense but here's ur invitation if you're looking for one!

it's a LONG fic and tbh? i'd never read a fic as long as hfym lmao so @ anyone who is intrigued but doesn't know if they could handle it, like. i understand. but thank you v much for your question!! let me see...

do you ever read meta on spn characters and think: if only someone were there to be your friend and love and support you? maybe things would have been better? that's a core tenant of this fic.

do you also ever read meta on spn and how even though it SAYS spn is about found family, all the found family dies or is left, um, 'shattered at the altar of winchester'? and you're like :/ me too. trying to alter/fix that is also a core tenant of this fic.

cas and dean being together IS obviously, a very important part of this fic. it is a destiel fic. but i'm also trying to maybe suggest that they can have other people in their lives that also matter. since the premise is that cas is sent back in time without his memories, this means he spends a lot of the fic discovering his likes/dislikes and interests.

like 90s alt girlies. and 2000s pop girlies. and fantasy-comedy novels. and silly graphic t-shirts. and bagels. and slushies.

dean slowly and much more begrudgingly admitting to maybe liking other things/trying them/tolerating them because of cas.

dean and cas sharing clothes before they even get together.

dean admitting that watching cas try new things is fun for him too.

dean losing a bet and offhandedly mentioning to sam that cas is now giving him a lecture on 80s new wave, then quoting a talking heads song lyric to cas the next chapter.

if i can't put dean winchester in therapy i'm just gonna surround him with so many adults that are more well-adjusted than him and just hope they can imprint on him and hey it kind of works?

i keep wanting to give cas friends bc that's what he deserves. i also have a habit of writing almost solely female minor characters (i started this practice years ago since if all the main characters in the fandoms i wrote were guys, this surely balanced out the world, right? right??) this means cas has a slowly growing troupe of girl besties :) they have ladies night :)

a cool knife shows up at some point.

sam started out spn as a bitch and a psychic and by god is he gonna stay that way.

jess :)

the first half of this fic is pre-Pilot, which i really enjoy! but we also get the entirety of s1 in this fic, and it's really fun sitting down and going through these classic spn eps.

faith (nsfw) and faith *jumps* 2!!

why oh why is hookman the emotional linchpin of this season? who can say.

i genuinely think this fic is a comedy. like it is serious, sure. but only a handful of chapters in this thing are fully 100% serious, the rest have a handful of things that i personally find very funny, like: gilligan cuts for scene changes, dean telling sam to 'pack it up, gloria steinem,' cas slowly growing a sense of humor that is about as dry as the sahara, the running joke that cas is a slow driver, dean thinking a falafel is a 'weird meatball', pretty much the entire hellhouse episode rewrite, 'cas started a cult' 'what.', 'what the fuck is a musca?', 'you're a real peach, cas' 'thank you?', sam admitting to dean he's having visions while dean has to sit there thinking that he's been balls deep in a non-human entity that can smite things with his mind: wow sammy that's crazy., 'maybe it's underwater caves.' 'dude. it is not underwater caves.' and much more

overall i guess this is the longest fic i've ever written and every day p much i'm like 'wow can't wait to write more!' it's such a joy to write and it's a love letter to spn and the fandom and the memories we've all made with this silly crazy show as more people read it and comment on it i genuinely think it creates this positive feedback loop and i hope anyone who reads hfym can get some joy from it like i am able to just by writing it and interacting with people who read it!

[hot-tea-gardenparty]

SPN 15.20 Reaction

Okay finally watching it live here on the West Coast, albeit I’ve been spoiled by Tumblr so I already know the episode is utter trash. I am very upset. Do not read ahead if you’d rather feel positive.

-          Pie Festival. Sam brings up Cas and Jack and Dean just pushes past that like it doesn’t fucking matter. “We gotta keep living for them” FUCK THAT SHIT. I hate it. So we are just going to keep ignoring the whole Cas confession? Gotcha. Pics or it didn’t happen?

-          Where’s Eileen too? Does she matter nothing to Sam now? What was the point of bringing her back to life and the kiss and whatnot….if she doesn’t matter in the end.

-          Now we’ve got some rando family that I don’t care about and these dollar store mask wearing creepers. I don’t want to see this in a SERIES FINALE EPISODE.

-          So you got all these extras and all these other random actors on set….but you couldn’t include Misha in the finale? Wow.

-          Interrogation of the dollar store creepers. Boring. SO BORING. 15 minutes into this episode and I am BORED. Who cares right now about a VAMPIRE NEST in the FINALE EPISODE. Why was this put in here?

-          A barn….where Dean is supposed to be meeting Cas again but we all know that isn’t going to happen.  No….why would we actually bring back a character that has kept this show from cancellation over and over…let’s just have the brothers fight some stupid vampires that no one cares about.

-          Oh great a fight with the dollar store vampires. The fight choreo is a bit wonky….but if I was honest it’s always been a little wonky on Supernatural (at least the past few seasons).

-          HOW DID THE SPN WRITERS THINK THAT BRINGING BACK JENNY FROM S.1 WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN CAS? LIKE SERIOUSLY…WHAT THE EVER LIVING FUCK.

-          Fastest cameo ever. What the hell was the purpose of that at all?!

-          This is where Dean is gonna fall on a spike or something and die. Oh…nope…impaled by a vampire.

-          Seriously. Dean is gonna die here? HERE? NOW? He literally just got his free will. ARE YOU SHITTING ME?! Seriously….WHAT IS THE POINT OF DEAN DYING NOW? AND THIS IS WHAT KILLS HIM?  Dean deserves more than this. This isn’t the right way for him to die. Impaled on a spike by a shitty, second tier vamp. He deserved a life. This is just CRUEL.

-          Dean’s goodbye to Sam is kinda squicky. This is crossing into Wincest territory and it’s kinda disgusting. SERIOUSLY DABB WHY DID YOU FEED INTO THE WINCEST BULLSHIT.

-          This death is taking a while.

-          Sam doesn’t deserve this shit.

-          God, I would have been fine with a death like this for Dean if it had happened LATER ON DOWN THE LINE. BUT LIKE THIS? NOW?

-          Serious question. Why did Dean have to die in a barn? A link to Cas maybe? Fuck…why am I doing this to myself….I know now this show isn’t that deep.

-          Hunter funeral. Hey…Sam….question buddy….why didn’t you call ANYONE? No Donna. No Jody? Just you and the damn dog? WTF? Where is your found family? Apparently they don’t matter anymore.

-          The dog is the best part of this episode. It’s cute.

-          So now Sam is going to go on a hunt? Sure. Fine.

-          Dean is in heaven now I guess.

-          You cannot tell me that Dean arrives in heaven, where Cas is now residing, and Cas just doesn’t pop in at all to say HI? BULLSHIT.

-          All Cas gets is a fleeting mention? Thanks. I hate it.

-          “What are you going to do now?”   “I’m gonna no homo this shit-pony into the diarrhea smear sunset!”

-          Sam marries an unknown woman. Has a kid named Dean. Thanks….I hate it.

-          WHAT IS THAT WIG?! OMG NO. AHAHAHAHAHA! They didn’t even fucking try. Jared doesn’t even look aged…jesus christ.

-          Sam dies in old age. Fine. Whatever. I am already fed up with this shitty finale.

-          Why couldn’t supernatural just give us a happy ending in 2020?

-          Carry On My Wayward Son TWICE….IN A ROW. JESUS CHRIST. HAMMER IT HOME HARDER GUYS I HAVEN’T FELT ANYTHING YET.

-          Are you seriously telling me Cas hasn’t come by to say hi to Dean ONCE. NOT ONCE? Fuck I hate this finale. I hate it so much.

Final thoughts: This finale was a mess. Every single emotional thread they had strung was left hanging. I am honestly deeply offended that Castiel wasn’t in this episode. That he was barely even mentioned. I cried about that during the final scenes, not because Dean and Sam died. This finale was a cheap, slap-dash ending…it was the epitome of “rocks fall they all die”. I haven’t felt this hurt and angered by a finale since GOT. I had so much faith in Supernatural and it’s writers….I put faith in the meta readings and I tried to stay a positive fangirl with a sunny outlook. This finale just dashed most of my respect for whoever thought this finale was good enough. For whoever deemed these endings were going to make us fans happy. This was a slap to so many of our faces. It dangled multiple carrots in our face, “it’s not a good ending without Cas” or “Cas is an important character, we can’t leave him out” and “family don’t end in blood”. WELL…apparently family does end in blood…because Dean and Sam literally cared about no one else in 15.19 and 15.20 other than themselves. It’s like the entire ensemble cast was shoved to the side to make sure that the Wincest and brother lovers got their happy ending. I am so beyond heartbroken.

THIS IS NOT MY SUPERNATURAL FINALE.

IT NEVER FUCKING WILL BE.

[laufire]

i’ve seen people compare dean to buffy (and dean/sam to buffy/dawn), and i do not have the energy to articulate how deeply fundamentaly WRONG that is. NO. he’s elena. (i do however see agree that there are dean/angel parallels.)

Oof.

I could imagine there were such comparisons, but I’m very, very glad I’ve never had encountered them personally xD.

There’s a lot to unpack alone in the Dean-Buffy comparisons that I’d feel more comfortable doing when I’ve watched more of Dean’s journey, but it goes without saying I agree with you: Buffy and Dean aren’t similar people, at all. The comparison bugs me, ngl, but, and this goes beyond parallels. I’m going to take comfort in the fact that Buffy would be disgusted by Dean xDD (and god, can you imagine how shitty Dean would be to her. Putting aside what a misogynistic creep he can be -I’m not forgetting that scene with Jess any time soon-, I can just picture the kind of shit Dean “rape joke” Winchester would say to her about her relationships with Angel or Spike and it sickens me). Not that I actually think Dean and Elena would get along either, similarities or not xDD

But boy, the Buffy-Dawn vs. Dean-Sam comparison. That one is a kick to the stomach. Even worse than the one with Wynonna and Waverly -Wynonna Earp takes clear inspiration from SPN, but it really only works on the surface level; so, if that’s how you watch the show, I could potentially understand those comparisons, fine. But Buffy and Dawn?? Are you kidding me???

Buffy cherishes Dawn, she encourages her growth and her relationships and bonds with others. She doesn’t restore to violence when Dawn says something that makes her angry. She apologizes to her and strives to make amends and acknowledges when she’s wrong. She’s forgiving and understanding and compasionate of Dawn’s mistakes. When she finds out Dawn is not human (that she’s not even her sister at all), she embraces it and never shames her for it.

If you think any of the above applies to Dean, you have completely bought into his POV, disregarded Sam’s, and have a blind spot in the narrative the size of every state they’ve been in s1 alone combined.

Now, Elena sending Damon to erase Jeremy’s memories when he becomes to difficult to control? That sounds right up Dean’s alley and, according to s9 (I think? The one where he tricks Sam into getting possessed by an angel without his knowledge. Good times I’m sure) wikia summaries, maybe even a little tame for him xD. Jeremy had to lie to Elena about what he was planning to leave town and her clutches, and that was by the time Elena’s influence was minimal. At least he seems to have a life separated from her doing what he wants.

Also, I’m never, ever going to forget something Dean said to Sam back in s4 that froze me where I stood: that threatening “If I didn’t know you, I would want to hunt you”. Try to put that phrase in Buffy’s mouth, *especially* in relation to Dawn, and tell me how that sounds.

I do concede there are similarities between Dean and Angel lmfao. For one, Doylist-wise I see them fitting into the same pattern: SPN seems to have started with the idea of being about BOTH brothers, but Dean’s POV (partially for his character type, partially for Ackles presence and charisma) dominates and redirects the plot from practically the first second. Angel wasn’t initially supposed to have as much weight on BTVS, but try to stop Boreanaz xD (he has the IT factor. How I wish he was cast as Bruce Wayne in a show lmao). His scenes on the pilot awakened memories of both Angel and Chuck Bass lmfao, in terms of how disruptive and all-encompasing his presence was.

I can see some similarities beyond that, too. I’ll never deny that Angel could be a terrifying mean cold mofo, soul or no soul. Hell, some of my favourite moments in the Buffyverse are whenever Angel acts like a cold mofo (Forgiving, anybody???). And I could see very unflattering yet not entirely unfair comparisons been made, although I’d probably have a good argument for those! Like with Buffy, I see key differences that to *me* matter in terms of how I react to each character, although I’d probably could say a lot more after I finish SPN.

For now, I’ll say that one of them is that Angel has proven himself capable of relinquishing control and make amends (see s2 of ATS), something that at this point I doubt Dean has in him in any meaningful way. And also... this is more abstract but Dean is so full of this self-righteous, poisonous hate in him for anything other. It’s one of the things I find so utterly frightening about him. And I don’t see that in Angel, at all. Because Angel is the other and he never, ever forgets that (in that one way, actually, Sam is closer to him. Dean could’ve never done what Angel did with Faith, or with Darla in s2. Sam could, and has done close enough things for comparison).

I must also say that a good romance softens audience reaction to a cold mofo like nothing else lmfao, so Bangel definitely affects how I see Angel. It’s not exactly a mystery why his episode with Cassie is by far the most likeable I’ve found Dean lol (likeable as in likeable, as opposed “fascinating terrifying character” the way I’ve done in other episodes lol). Still count myself lucky she never made a reappearance, with this show’s track record xD

But anyway. Dean is his own thing. And one of the many things he can be is a meaner, scarier version of Elena Gilbert lmao -because he doesn’t have the constraints she has and can be terrifying in areas Elena couldn’t. I get the impression I’m going to have a reversed reaction to their arcs, however. In TVD, I started out loathing Elena (on Caroline’s, and later Bonnie’s, behalf. Even Jeremy’s, to a lesser extent) and only could properly appreciate what an interesting character she was after I’d let go~~ of my hate lol (in her case, because she was no longer as serious a threat to those characters I cared about).

With Dean, as of now I don’t hate him. I mean, I think he’s scary and hateful as a person, but I don’t feel the way I did for Caroline or even Bonnie about anyone around him getting hurt, by him and their vulnerability to him; for now, my interest on him as a character construct trumps that -we’ll talk again when I properly see his dynamic with Castiel lol. Even if it turns out there’s no reason to feel as protective there as with the characters in TVD, the spoilers I’ve read (and contrasted with the wikia, I always do that) about how I know he treated Jack are going to be enough to make me wish the worst for him. His treatment of full grown adults he has complicated relationships with can fit within my “fascinating and terrifying protagonist” description. Driving a kid that, looks or not, has the life experience of a toddler to a suicide attempt to them tell him “no, I’m gonna be the one who kills you” is only going to make me feel nausea, because it already does. At this point, the knowledge that Jack has the power to resurrect him but doesn’t care to only fills me with satisfaction xD

[rockhoochie]

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean insists he has a talent of tongue. You decide to to put him to the test.

WC: ~1400

Warnings: light bondage (use of restraints, blindfold), voyeurism if you squint, no actual sex just lots and lots of dirty talk (which includes: masturbation, oral sex, squirting, ass play)

A/N: No set up, no plot, just Dean talking all kinds of filthy in a drabble that got away from me .@the-chocolate-moose, thanks for the prompt/request! Obviously got my juices flowing...Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Dean insisted he could make a woman come without actually touching her.

You insisted he was full of shit - it takes a lot more than dirty talk to actually get a woman off.

But he wouldn’t let it go, adamantly proclaiming it to be true, so sure of himself that he quipped, “wanna bet?”  Never one to miss an opportunity to be right, you accepted with an incredulous “talk is cheap, asshole, you’re on.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the dungeon, wrists and ankles gently but firmly bound to the chair you sat on, fully clothed, and one of Dean’s neckties stretched over your eyes. 

He’d been quiet for a few minutes now...you could hear his footsteps walking circles around you, hear his steady breathing. He was probably waiting for you to stop giggling like an idiot. 

You had to admit, you wondered if he was actually as good at this as he claimed to be. His looks alone were enough to whip any woman into a frenzy; add in some naughty words and saucy phrases tumbling from those plush lips, carried by that sexy, gravelly voice, and…

“You sure look pretty like this, YN, all tied up and eager. Like you’re ready for anything. Then again, you look sexy as hell all the time.”

Your eyes rolled up into your head, lashes fluttering against the silky blindfold. This wasn’t fair - you didn’t think he’d literally be muttering into your ear, the heat of his breath warming the skin just behind it, the lightest vibration of his lips buzzing against your flesh. 

“You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, sweetheart...to have a chance to tell you how much I think about you, tell you all the dirty things I think about…”

You exhaled, a little surprised at how ragged it sounded. And when you breathed in again, the air seemed warmer, thicker...it made your limbs feel a little heavy and your skin seemed to be covered with goosebumps.

“I think about you all the time, YN,” Dean continued, dropping his voice lower. “So beautiful...you got no clue how beautiful you are to me. Everything about you... the way you laugh, smile... I just love watching you do anything. Sometimes you drive me damn near crazy.”

All those words were somehow seeping into your pores. You could feel your nipples harden against your bra and you suddenly felt hot.  

“I got a confession to make... walked in on you in the shower once. You didn’t see me but I saw you, all wet and naked, hot water running over your perfect tits and down the crack of your tight ass... Christ, just the sight of you got me so fucking hard...thought about that for weeks. Still picture it when I’m jerking off, thinking about all the things I wanna do to you…”

You licked your lips and swallowed - your throat felt dry. And there was a tension crimping in your belly and you felt the faint the beat of your pulse between your legs. 

Damn it.

A whimper escaped your lips - you couldn’t help it. 

“You make the prettiest sounds, YN... you know, I can hear you when you’re fucking yourself. All those little moans and sighs...and I imagine you’re laid out your bed, one little hand playing with your tits while you have the other working between your legs, wet fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy... then I start wondering what I could do to get you to make those noises for me.”

You squirmed in your seat,  a flush spreading all through your veins.

“I know I’d kiss you first. Long and hard, just taking in the taste of your lips. And once I get my tongue in your mouth I’d start taking off your clothes, strip you down to your panties, and touch every single inch of your gorgeous body... sweetheart, you’re so soft and and smell so fucking good, but touching you ain’t enough...I gotta kiss you everywhere. Your neck, shoulders, fingers, your tits...I’ll spend time on your tits. Maybe suck on them for awhile, give those pink nipples a little bite.”

“Dean…” you whispered, hips rolling of their own volition, your core reaching out and coming back with nothing.

He hummed, planting little kisses behind your ear, lightly pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Bet you’re getting so wet right now…”

“Please…” 

His lips found a heavenly spot on your neck, and you felt him smile right before his teeth grazed your flesh.

“Your skin tastes so good...bet your hot little pussy tastes even better.”

“Holy fuck, Dean…”

“I knew it,” he growled, “You love getting eaten out, don’t you, YN? Love a head between your legs and a thick tongue fucking your tight hole...It’s so perfect cause when I’m jerking off, and gettin’ close to blowing it, I just imagine what you taste like...probably like fuckin’ honey, all sweet and warm. I think about gettin’ on my knees while you’re all spread out, legs wide open, that beautiful pussy on display just for me, and I can see how soaked you are...fuck, it drips out of you, and when I get closer I can smell how bad you want it, so I get myself a slow, sweet taste and lick up your cream…”

You were completely gone, lost in the haze of Dean’s voice and the pictures he was painting with his sinfully delicious words, your breaths coming faster while your limbs strained against the ropes.

“Mmm, fuck baby, you taste so good...so fucking wet and I’m just devouring that pussy, licking up every drop... I just can’t get enough, can’t get my tongue far enough inside of you so I’ll slide my fingers deep into your hot cunt, find that sweet spot and fuck you with my hand...and you keep begging for more so I’ll bury myself three fingers deep...maybe slip one in your ass…”

The noise you made at that was beyond pathetic, but you just didn’t care. He was making you insane. 

Dean chuckled, nibbling at your neck, and running a palm along each of your thighs.

“Oh you’d like that, huh? Such a dirty girl ...yeah, I’ll make you cum so hard you’ll squirt, YN... I’ll keep nailing that sweet spot over and over, fucking your tight asshole with my finger and sucking your clit until you cum all over my face…”

You were trembling, back arching, moaning and sighing and begging. Slick had pooled at your entrance. Your clit was throbbing. The muscles of your cunt twitched and grasped at nothing, begging to be touched and filled and fucked…

“Then I’ll flip you over on your hands and knees, fuck you from behind and make you cum again... give you my thick cock so I can feel you clench and quiver all over my dick…and you’ll take it so good, baby, you’ll take every single inch of it nice and deep and you’ll be screaming it feels so good, the way I’m fucking you so hard...you’ll beg for my cum, sweetheart, beg me to fill up your pussy ‘till it’s dripping out of you…”

“Oh god Dean, fuck!” you cried, and almost out of nowhere, your climax flooded through you, hot and needy and electric, spreading from your core to the tips of your fingers. Your blindfold was lifted, restraints loosened and removed as you panted, satisfied from release but wanting and needing so much more. When you were finally able to focus, you noticed Dean staring down at you, his bottom lip tucked behind his teeth and his hand palming at the bulge in his pants.

Without preamble you rushed him, crashing your lips against his as he grabbed the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in arms. You were vaguely aware of being carried down the hallway, and soon you were laid out on his bed, legs wrapped around his waist as Dean stared at you with dark, emerald eyes.

“YN, I -”

“Shh,” you hissed, placing a finger over his lips. “Talk is cheap. Now put up or shut up.”

Master List

Tagging the Collective (SPN Tag Spreadsheet, SPN Pond Tags, My Tags):

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[stardancerluv]

The Night Roman Reminded You

Part 1 of 2

Summary: When and if Victor ever warns you, take the warning to heart. At six weeks into dating Roman, you learn an important lesson not just about Roman but about yourself.

Arthor’s Note: As a writer, I have wanted to rework it, once more, again! I wrote my own version, awhile back. I am sorry (not sorry. I am actually reworking it for a third time!) revisiting it. I feel that my writing has improved, I want to do this moment even better. I always, felt this was a turning point in my “steady” reader and Roman dynamic. It’s darker but it establishes why they are the great couple that they are and plants the seeds that grow in At War and Gotham Lockdown 2020 and beyond.

(This my twist, my take on the scene where he makes the girl dance on the table. Also I want it still known I do not condone or support this behavior.)

******

That stupid fuck, Roman thought as he plastered a smile on his face as he looked at the man. He offered his gloved hand, “So, Friday morning at the docks to finalize things?” He smiled even broader as he thought about how Friday mornint would go down.

“Yes, Sionis.” He shook his hand, then brushed past him.

He would regret insulting him and in his club of all places. Grabbing, his martini he finished.

“How did it go?” Zsasz walked up to him.

A smirk curled his lips. “I was thinking, not to spoil your fun or anything but I might actually take that man’s face myself.”

Zsasz, nodded and smiled. “I suppose, I could let you do it this one time.” He chuckled darkly.

Roman ran his fingers through his hair. Annoyance prickled him. “Where the fuck is Y/N?”

“She’s having a girls night.”

“Oh fuck, that’s right.” Roman sighed, one of the girls swished up with a mew martini, he took it. It was his fifth and they were not calming him.

“Falcone and Penguin, next?” Zsasz sneered. “I hate that damn bird.”

“Who actually likes him? He’s a fucking bird.” Roman straightened his gloves. “Not for an hour. I will circulate and socialize.”

Zsasz, scratched the back of his neck as he looked at him. “You sure, boss?”

“Yeah.” How dare he rein him in, he gritted his teeth. “Victor, not tonight.”

He bowed his head. “Sorry.”

He dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

******

Walking, over to The Black Mask, you were tipsy and felt the glorious and delicious weight of being Roman’s girl. Despite some issues with the press, everything in your life was better. When you took jobs with members of the underworld they went easier. You and your friends had been to a few other clubs. Though you had made sure that by the end of the night you all would end the night at Roman’s.

Before getting there, everyone had treated you well. Roman had made sure to tell you that they had better treated you like the princess you were. They did. Drinks and incredibly tasty appetizers were placed in front of you. Sometimes, they even moved you all to a better table. It was great.

What irked you was that one or two of your friends still doubted the fact that you two were an item. If you were honest, most of the time they drove you nuts. Though they were your friends, so you took the bad with the good. Tonight, was a long needed and a very overdue girls night. Despite the amazing treatment all night, they let it be known that they expected no less at The Black Mask Club. They still doubted you were his girl. He was notorious. He was know love and leave girls very easily. Well, you would show them you mused.

While, walking over you mused how you had been finding out what he liked and didn’t like. You grew to know he how very particular he could be. Only recently, had he let you spend the night.

Walking up to the bouncer, you hugged and shared air kisses before he waved you and your friends on. The large line in front of him which continued for two blocks groaned at the ease you and you friends entered the club.

Knowing, you would end up seeing your boyfriend by the end of the of the night, you wanted to look good for him. You wore a dress he had bought for you. It was classy but showed off more of you than you usually wore. To not be outdone, your heels were equally sexy and given you the ability to walk and even dance in without major agony. He always had a keen eye about putting your clothes together.

Walking in, the alcohol felt like it was running through veins. You could no wrong. Though, it felt like everyone in the club shifted their eyes to you, Roman Sionis’s girl. You were the one who tamed him. You had heard and read about people’s curiosity. How had you managed to be more then a lingering bed warmer to him. The idea tickled you. You were his girl and he was your man. He had already established a way of taking care of you.

To be honest, tonight had been a very long time for you to be be away from him. You had felt a little lonely. You had grown so used to him keeping a protective arm around your waist or a possessive hand on your thigh. And tonight, you had none of that.

You had no idea that when you walked into the club that you would encounter one of Roman’s more negative traits. You were strong and you could face any problem. Encountering, this trait made you learn alot about yourself.

You led your friends to a table that Roman had told you, that you and your friends could have whenever you wanted. So happily you, you told them that you were going to grab one of waiters so your orders could be taken. You wanted to continue having the warm buzz, from being this tipsy. You had not been this carefree in years.

Happily, people let you by as you made your way to the bar. Cold, fingers wrapped around your upper arm before you had a chance to talk to the bartender.

Startled you jumped before looking back to see whose fingers they belonged to.

“Oh!” You relaxed, as he drew closer. “It’s you Zsasz.”

“What are you doing here?” He hissed.

You were confused by the his expression, was the concern or annoyance? Ever since he fucked up and kidnapped you by accident, he’d always been cool towards you.

“My girl’s night is almost over, and I missed Romy.” You only referred to him as that when you tipsy or particularly needy which right now you were both.

“Go and come back, give him a chance to cool off.”

You yanked your arm away. “Victor, he is my boyfriend. I am not leaving.”

Seeing, the bartender look nervously between the two of you, you watched as he stood back.

“Adam, send someone over to my table, please. We want to order.”

“But..” He gestured to Victor.

You looked between the two. “Seriously? Do I have to pull the girlfriend card?” You were getting upset.

Adam, visibly sighed. “Ok...ok, I’ll send someone over.” He shot, Victor a worried glance.

You ignored it and smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

You turned to Victor. “Go tell Roman, I’m here.” You began to walk away.

He grabbed you. “Y/N, he is in a very foul mood. Harley made a scene and he’s been insulted alot tonight.”

“I will cheer him up! That’s what girlfriends do.”

He sighed. “Alright, I warned you.”

“Look, Victor cut the crap. You fucked up. I know that you, hate me.” Your heart, thudded with annoyance. “I know you hate being reminded of when you fucked up.”

“I don’t. That’s not fucking it.” He scratched the back of his neck. “He’s in a murderous mood.”

That kind of hit you, but it also kind of excited you in your haze of drinks. You looked around, “Victor, I am his girlfriend. I know what I got into when I started dating him.”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen him like this.”

You don’t know what compelled you. Perhaps, it was the lack of faith in your friends, the bartender hesitating, or him telling you to leave but now you were angry.

“Victor, were you there when he took care of Jareth?” Your voice was low enough so he could hear you but no one else.

“I picked him up.” Smugness filled his face. You knew he always took pride in what he did.

You smirked. “Then you saw how Roman looked when he left?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When, he got home Victor, I welcomed home like a hero.” You swallowed, no turning back now; you mused. “I happily was on my knees and I’d do it again. So go, grab him.” With your heart racing, you walked away.

By the time, you sat down in the booth you were shaking, you were not one to talk like that.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @theblackmaskclub @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @corey-clown @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @saphic-susperia @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Diving - emilyshurley

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

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Name: Emily

Age: 21

Location: India

URL: @emilyshurley​

Why did you choose your URL: Okay this is embarrassing. I was trying to sign up for AO3, so I did a quick Google search for two things, what's the name of Dean's daughter? Emma, and Chuck's last name, Shurley

I accidentally typed Emma as Emily and that's it. 

There was a very real chance that my url would have been emmashurley. Thoughts on that one? Maybe I'll change it someday. 

What inspired you to become a writer: Being an only child who wasn't allowed to watch tv for more than 2 hours. And not having friends, that also had something to do with it. 

How long have you been writing: Fanfiction? 4 years (was on Wattpad before this). In general? 12 years, I guess... I remember showing my first short story to my english teacher in 6th class. 

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? Cooking, eating what I made. I don't get to cook often so I enjoy it when I can. Other than that, college takes up most of my time. Currently getting my bachelor's degree in science. It's my last year, will probably get master's in zoology next. 

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? 4 years

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Way too freaking many. But I write for marvel and I'm thinking of re-posting the very first vampire diaries fanfic I wrote. But are people still into vampires?

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? Mostly journalling, but I occasionally take part in writing competitions and things.

Favorite published author: Amish Tripathi (He mainly writes Hindu mythological fantasy? If that's anyone's jam here)

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Leap of faith by Danielle Steel. Not for any reason other than the fact that it was the first novel I ever read. My grandfather was reading it, and I told him I wanted to read something too so he gave it to me. 

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc):Platonic fluff!!!! Give me all the fics of best friends being adorable. 

Favorite piece of your own writing: Once upon a Winchester. But I gave myself so little canon to work with that I think I'll continue it after the show ends. I have to know the ending to continue it. 

Most underrated fic you have written: Letters to no one. For any marvel fans, it's a two part fic in Natasha's POV, just some letters she thought no one will ever read. 

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Project Latrodectus, again marvel. I kinda feel bad for mentioning my marvel fics so much but I'm pulling influences from the story of Eklavya in Mahabharata, which is a Hindu epic so complex that I won't attempt to explain it here. 

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): Ahh that's a tough one. I love so many people. At this point, mentioning Myin ( @myinconnelly1 ) feels like cheating because another who has ever looked at my posts can tell she's my favourite human. So I'll try not to mention her further. 

Otherwise, Beka ( @impala-dreamer), Kate ( @katehuntington​ ), @katymacsupernatural and other hoomans I can't remember because I have been away from Tumblr for a while. 

Favorite Fic from another writer: Blood and Honey by @kittenofdoomage. And the proposal by @katymacsupernatural

Favorite character to write: Marvel: Natasha Romanoff, Supernatural: I have never written Charlie but I'd love to. 

Favorite Pairing to write: So they are platonic ships but Dean and Charlie, the boys and Garth and Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. 

Least favorite character to write (and why): Easily John Winchester. I don't know, my brain just can't process his character. Like no matter how many times I try, John just sounds off. 

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? Irl, my grandfather. On tumblr, Myin. I know, I know I said I won't mention her but Myin is my support system here. No matter what goes on in my brain, no idea is too crazy for her. 

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? To make people feel less alone because I think that feels like shit. My goal moving forward is to write more Indian reader and LGBTQ reader fics because I think not many people in the fandom (that I know of) are writing those fics. 

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: Four, all of them are series. Technically 2 are my ongoing ones. And one is an MCU x SPN crossover that's taking a while to plan. 

What are you currently working on? Nothing focusing on college these days. But will write random one shots here and there.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? My inability to write romance. No joke, I don't feel like I write it well. So I tend to write general fics and crack fics.

Best writing advice you've been given: Someone recommended the book, writing down the bones, to me a while ago. In the very first chapter it says, use a cheap notebook (so you don't feel guilty about 'bad writing') and a fast writing pen. 

Since most of my non fanfic writings are done by hand I like that advice.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Procrastination. I'm the creator of my one misery here. I push stuff till the last moment then complain about being too busy to do anything. 

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction?Smut. I can't. I don't know I like to say I don't feel comfortable writing it but the truth is I just think I'd put people off. Which is not the intended outcome. 

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): More LGBTQ+ characters/reader inserts. Why? Say for example, even though I'm bi, but my version of bisexual Dean might not be something other people would relate to and I'm scared of accidentally offending someone. 

What inspires/motivates you to write: What if scenarios. I love speculating and coming up with the context behind what we see on screen. Like an idea that I'll one day use is, what was Sam going when Dean was in hell or purgatory. Sure in one case he hit a dog and met a girl but how? 

So I want to write more general fics or like filler between the scenes we see on the screen. 

How do you deal with self doubt: By talking to people, knowing I'm not alone in this helps. And sending fics to friends before I post them. 

How do you deal with writer's block: Play the sims. What I mean is take a break, do something completely different for a while. 

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: I don't, for one shots. For series I have to have an ending or else I'll lose interest very quickly. 

Do you have any weird writing habits: Would you consider writing/planning things on paper before writing it on the computer weird? 

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? I did. My very first fic on Tumblr. It was a Tony Stark x Indian!Reader fic and someone messaged me saying most content media is written for an American/Western audience. And that Tony Stark would never actually do for someone who's Indian because well Indian characters aren't primarily present in the MUC. So no one wants to read it. 

What I did about it? I deleted the fic and every backup I had of it. Because in my head they were right. All Indian get is Bruce Banner doing charity work for "all the poor Indians".

It wasn't until recently that I started talking to @desisamslut that I realised that people actually want to read about reader inserts that are like them. I mean it's called a reader insert for a reason how could I not see it?

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic?When someone made a mood board for my Black Widow fanfiction. 

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Hang in there, no matter how uncommon you think what you want to write about is, you'll find an audience. I mentioned @desisamslut in another answer, the first thing she told me was she has never seen an indian reader fic, so she felt happy when she read the one I wrote recently.