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deadcactuswalking · 7 months

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 25/11/2023 (Tate McRae, Drake)

Content warning: Holiday festivities (bah humbug)

For a second week, Jack Harlow - sadly - holds onto the #1 with “Lovin’ on Me” on the UK Singles Chart. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, as this is very much a regular November-era episode, Hell, probably the real start of the Christmas music era, also known as the end-times, we start with our notable dropouts, which are songs exiting from the UK Top 75 - since that’s what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week, we bid our farewells to an actually pretty considerable selection of big hits, those being “TOO MUCH” by The Kid LAROI, Jung Kook and Central Cee, “Can’t Play Myself (A Tribute to Amy)” by Skepta, “IDGAF” by Drake featuring Yeat - most likely making way for Drake’s debut this week and will be back the next - “3D” by Jung Kook and Jack Harlow (also potentially back next week thanks to the Justin Timberlake remix), “Say Yes to Heaven” by Lana Del Rey, “Party All the Time” by Hannah Laing and HVRR (Rest well, sweet prince), “It Goes Like (Nanana)” by Peggy Gou, “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac, “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls, “Flowers” by Miley Cyrus, “Escapism.” by RAYE featuring 070 Shake, “As it Was” by Harry Styles and finally, “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi. It’s likely that these end up back in the chart after Christmas, and really, there is no silver lining because we’re shoveling out old tracks for even older ones.

Now as always, I will never cover all of the Christmas songs but this is the week this year where we get the influx of the truly canonised classics, at least most of them, so for their first week in the top 75 this year, we have “Let it Snow Let it Snow Let it Snow” by the late Dean Martin at #69, “Snowman” by Sia at #67, “Do They Know it’s Christmas?” by Band Aid at #65 - wow, not off to a good start at all. Thankfully, we do clean up with “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” by the late Andy Williams at #57, “Fairytale of New York” by The Pogues featuring the late Kirsty MacColl at #53, “Merry Christmas Everyone” by Shakin’ Stevens at #51, “Underneath the Tree” by Kelly Clarkson at #49 and “Jingle Bell Rock” by the late Bobby Helms at #44. Wham! are at #14, Mariah’s at #16, Brenda Lee trails in third at #31. We do also see some non-holiday gains, namely “Lil Boo Thang” by Paul Russell at #36, “Angel Numbers / Ten Toes” by Chris Brown at #31 for whatever reason, “First Person Shooter” by Drake featuring J. Cole at #27 thanks to the video - more on Drake later - and “Can’t Catch Me Now” by Olivia Rodrigo at #13. We also see the bizarre re-entry for Ye’s 2010 track “Runaway” featuring Pusha T at a new peak of #34. Yeah, I assume there’s some TikTok virality here because I can’t figure out why otherwise, though it is a fan favourite - even if I think it’s pretty overrated, like the rest of that album. For the record, this is only its third week in the UK charts; it peaked at #56 for two consecutive weeks in 2010 and vanished thereafter.

And for THIS week in the UK Singles Chart, our top five starts with “Water” by Tyla at #5, in no doubt helped by remixes with Travis Scott and Marshmello of all people, and sadly not other Afrobeats artists as would have probably worked a lot better. Regardless, we then have “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan at #4, “greedy” by Tate McRae at #3, “Prada” by casso, RAYE and D-Block Europe at #2 and of course, Jack Harlow at the very top. Now to pick through our limited little bag of new entries.

NEW ARRIVALS

#75 - “Stay Another Day” - Jorja Smith

Produced by who cares?

Well, it’s that time of year again where we get the charts flooded with Amazon originals, tracks recorded for the Christmas season exclusively by artists working with Amazon Music that autoplay when you ask Alexa for holiday tracks. I think I would have loved to hear a Jorja Smith cover of “Stay Another Day”, personally, as her sultry voice would make the saccharine melodies of the boy-band original much easier to stomach. East 17’s 1994 original is barely even a Christmas song, it just happened to be released in late November and have a snowy video… well, they knew what they were doing with the sleigh bells at the tail-end. It’s not really a song I ever got, but it did spend five weeks at #1 and was the Christmas chart-topper for that year. So naturally, I’m going to talk about abstract hip hop. I made a Google form earlier this month asking for song suggestions to replace the Amazon originals, and got around 51 songs - all unique to be fair - sent to me, so I used a random number generator and selected two for this week. I probably won’t go into as much depth, and they won’t be covered in the conclusion out of fairness, and really for this suggestion, I don’t know where to start. “The Gods Must be Crazy” is a track from We Buy Diabetic Test Strips, the latest album from alternative rap duo Armand Hammer, consisting of rapper-producers billy woods and E L U C I D. With a beat from El-P, both rappers trade sarcastic, at times pretty funny, bars and some striking imagery regarding race, particularly the white misuse and misunderstanding of the black culture they use whilst also neglecting. E L U C I D goes for the abstract whilst woods is arguably more straightforward, but they both end up with some really poetic lyricism, often almost revolutionary and it definitely sounds like they’re leading a protest over some of the grooviest production I’ve ever heard from El-P, with the driving glitched-out vocals, with just enough fuzz to make it hit really hard, and a distanced, unpredictable set of drums. It’s a great track, but definitely one I feel will be much more effective in the context of the album, and I’d love to read a full analysis that puts some of what I simply don’t understand from E L U C I D’s brash delivery and woods’ as always effortless lyrical riffing into perspective.

#64 - “Surround Sound” - JID featuring 21 Savage and Baby Tate

Produced by Christo, DJ Scheme and Nuri

And bizarrely enough, we’re sticking with alternative rap though clearly, much less abstract. This was the lead single for JID’s great album The Forever Story last year, which peaked at #74 in the UK, and it was definitely one of the highlights for me, mostly because of the great use of Aretha Franklin’s 1965 track “One Step Ahead”, used similarly to how it was in Yasiin Bey’s 1995 track “Ms. Fat Booty” - which peaked at #85 in 2000, when Manic Street Preachers were at #1 - but instead layering it behind a killer trap beat. TikTok virality pushed this song back into mainstream popularity, but I’ve been bumping this one since release, with JID effortlessly rattling off flows as always, littered with breathy ad-libs and seamless rhyme schemes, so much so you almost forget most of this is just flexing. I love how the sample comes back in to act as an introductory jingle for 21 Savage, entering the ring with some of his coldest bars at that point, in a flow he hadn’t yet overused, and an overall brilliant if fleeting guest verse. Then Baby Tate strangely comes in, mostly moaning in a half-finished verse excerpt that blurts itself between the “banger” first half and a static noise that fills out the track before returning to a dark, fragmented beat that cuts in and out amidst JID’s grimier gangsta rap lyrics, with a menacing charisma honestly kind of reminiscent of Eminem, using flows and schemes that never seem to actually get a hold of the verse, it strays really far from the tightly-composed hit that makes up the first half and seems to show the grimmer reality of Atlanta that all three artists here are based in. Overall, I mean, it’s brilliant top-class hip hop, the kind you never expect to chart outside of the big-hitters like Kendrick and Cole, and I really hope it survives Christmas because it is fantastic.

#60 - “Lose Control” - Teddy Swims

Produced by Ammo and Julian Bunetta

I first heard Teddy Swims as a feature on a Meghan Trainor song, then discovered his real second name was Dimsdale so it really does not seem like a good first impression for Mr. Dimsdale or his pop-music Dimmadome but jokes aside, this has been his breakthrough hit in the US for a couple of weeks now, just hitting the top 40 on Billboard recently, and Mr. Dimsdale’s story is one we often see. He attracts a YouTube audience with cover songs and eventually sees industry attention. This is an original song and… well, wow, this guy can sing. That is probably the intended reaction to this, as content-wise, it’s not great, mostly because it feels a bit too obvious, but I mean, the whole song kind of toys on that boat of bombast, so it makes complete sense. The mix clips in the first verse with a slightly blocky-feeling bass and snaps that actually sound real and then that chorus comes in with the blasts of horns and the clanging percussion that despite the choir vocals, the clamouring of the production… it feels a bit empty, lacking in the actual composition, and I actually quite like that. It works for his raspy belt, the metallic attempt at recreating a big-band feel, it doesn’t feel “complete” or natural and this kind of breakup song where Dimsdale is rendered a broken man actually seems to warrant that sound. It even has a guitar solo that doesn’t deviate much from the chorus melody sadly but adds some needed grit before Mr. DImsdale really hits that note in the final chorus, and yet it doesn’t have a bombastic ending, or at least not as much as it needs. It just slips back out of existence, it’s kind of depressing in that aspect, I suppose. I guess, it’s not great, but I’ll take it.

#50 - “You’re Christmas to Me” - Sam Ryder

Produced by The Nocturns

The grip that Amazon has on the UK Christmas market is starting to be of concern. This is from the SEQUEL to an Amazon Prime-original Christmas film starring all British actors. There is a franchise at work, for God’s sake! At least this is an original song, and I will say this one is on YouTube but on principle, I will still refuse to review it and instead randomly select… “The Rose Song” by Olivia Rodrigo, which is also from a piece of visual media, that being the second season of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series. I have not watched that because, to put it bluntly, I’m not 12, but I’m sure it’s decent enough Disney sitcom fluff and you can definitely tell that Rodrigo still actually wrote this character’s songs, it wasn’t a screenwriter here, as it’s very much in the vein of her own solo work. It’s got similarly wordy moments, the actually pretty beautiful rising pianos amidst a shaky falsetto in the chorus, and none of the floaty over-production or attempts at grit that were on GUTS, despite one of her actually most impressive performances yet and a wonderful string swell that definitely sounds Disney but hey, there’s a reason why Disney still hits all these years on. The song’s content is about realising she’s more than what she is to this guy, who doesn’t seem to value her as a partner or really, human, and whilst it does go into clichés occasionally, it does it tastefully and with the power you can expect from a really good O-Rod ballad so… yeah, surprisingly enough, I really like this. It’d definitely be better than whatever Sam Ryder pushed out, at least. If I’m wrong, I don’t care.

#48 - “Body Moving” - Eliza Rose and Calvin Harris

Produced by Calvin Harris

I really didn’t expect Eliza Rose to grab a second hit after “B.O.T.A. (Baddest of Them All)” but I guess handing over most of the production duties to Calvin Harris is the best way to do so, and with sadly no relation to the Beastie Boys song, we have a song that feels pretty separate from “B.O.T.A.”, even if Rose has the same… interesting delivery and pretty terrible lyrics, which absolutely did not ruin that song, in fact they added to its charm. I’m not sure if I can say the same with this one, which just feels… random, for lack of a better word. The drums are all over this, layered to skitter and clatter over places where I feel they shouldn’t be, we have a whispery vocal loop from Ms. Rose in the back of the mix but still way too loud, not that you can hear it over the horn blasts that honestly don’t even sound in key, even if they probably are. They don’t build up effectively to a drop either, which just kind of crashes in with again, an overly-scattered set of metallic drum patterns, and Rose being interrupted by those gross, blaring horns. I like the keys and strings added in that second verse, probably the only real resemblance to “B.O.T.A.” here, but it doesn’t bother much with that atmosphere, neglecting it for the sake of a bombast that isn’t there. It really just doesn’t feel like anyone was in the same room making this, and it really is a shame because this collaboration on paper should have been way better.

#26 - “You Broke My Heart” - Drake

Produced by Vinylz and FNZ

Out of all the songs to chart from Drake’s deluxe edition of For All the Dogs, subtitled the “Scary Hours Edition”, it had to be the one perhaps least representative of those six new tracks, which mostly consist of sluggish, paranoid jazz-rap rambles, most of the time eschewing the need for an actual drum pattern and using endless loops for some of Drake’s most self-aware yet least sobered writings in years. For the record, I like all of them, but I am partially glad that say, “The Shoe Fits” or “Stories About My Brother” didn’t chart because they’re heady, conscious and introspective tracks, whilst this song… it’s the relapse. It’s the full circle moment where Drake gives up on trying to contextualise everyone and everything around him, resorting to monosyllabic chants in the bridge - or “hook” at a stretch - and barely landing on a coherent flow over a cascading sample beat, that seems to go for the same drumless, hypnotic feel of the rest of the bonus tracks, switching between samples of Major Harris and the Supremes before the bait-and-switch into a hard trap beat wherein Drake can just flex and dismiss instead of the bitter breakup balladeering of the first verse, back in the mode of For All the Dogs. Now why do I actually like it? Well, it’s silly, it took me by surprise, it does a good job placing the murky, desperate “Stoned Love” sample from the Supremes - which peaked at #3 in 1971 behind George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” at #1 - against the almost rage-esque beat where OVO protégé Smiley provides… juicy ad-libs. He eventually gets back into talking about his ex but it’s in these whispered yells and rants that are just comedy, it’s a fascinating listen to me, maybe not as good as “Wick Man” or the more lyrical tracks I mentioned earlier but very much still in good fun. It won’t last past this week, though, as Yeat will come back like Superman to rescue the UK Singles Chart from… Smiley, I guess.

#12 - “exes” - Tate McRae

Produced by Ryan Tedder and Tyler Spry

Well, that next Tate McRae album is coming sometime soon and with the help of pop songwriting giant Ryan Tedder, she’s definitely in full “pop girl” mode, and this time without an obvious Timbaland sample to back her up. And surprise, surprise - the song is not great. It’s hard to take McRae’s sing-songy chorus and fake laughter seriously when Dua Lipa does the same conceit a lot better and a lot sexier on “Houdini” whilst trying less, as Tate moves on with guys very quickly and keeps memorabilia of all of her exes even if the relationships mostly meant nothing. It’s a shame that this is awful, genuinely, like it took a while but this is driving my insane. Why do we have a random blend of instruments functioning as the monogenre melody, and none of them mixed to be a focal point? Should I be focusing on the muffled, cheap and jaunty acoustic guitar line (which sounds especially terrible in the outro), the airy keys or the reverb-drenched rubbery vocal loop that is mixed in the chorus so it’s nearly as loud as Tate, who just sounds terrible because bless her, she’s not the best singer, and definitely not the most emotive, so she can’t sell this dead-on-arrival song with a rhythm that decided to add trap skitters for basically no reason when a more bass-focused funk groove or even a drum and bass backing would make this hit much harder. It sounds dated on arrival too, like this is something that Selena Gomez would have picked up in 2019, and McRae going for a semi-rap delivery sometimes just sounds forced and gross, especially coming from someone void of personality and full of Auto-Tune, and ESPECIALLY on the half-time trap breakdown in the second verse that made me have to stop the song just in shock of how insufferable it was. It never truly progresses either outside of layers of synth nothingness and vocal harmonies that basically register as Auto-Tuned whining baby noises from the back of the mix. God, this is just shockingly awful, especially from veterans like Ryan Tedder. Get this away from me before I start noticing more things to hate about it.

Conclusion

It should be obvious, Tate McRae gets Worst of the Week for “exes”, which is by and far the absolute worst song that debuted, and sadly, I do have enough disappointment to give the Dishonourable Mention to “Body Moving” by Eliza Rose and Calvin Harris, it is quite a shame. As for the best, we do have two great hip hop songs here, which feels good to say in a year that has been kind of lacking for mainstream rap. Drake gets the Honourable Mention with “You Broke My Heart” but the Best of the Week, similarly far ahead, goes to JID for “Surround Sound” featuring 21 Savage and Baby Tate, I really hope that one sticks around. As for what’s on the horizon, we’re safely in holiday territory now, so expect more of that. For now, thank you for reading and for once, I’ll see you earlier than next week. Stay tuned.

#pop music #song review #uk singles chart #tate mcrae #drake #eliza rose #calvin harris #teddy swims #jid #baby tate #21 savage

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hahahahahangst · 9 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MASTERLIST

Anyone who knows what love is

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

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

“Yeah, we heard you.” She muttered.

“And?”

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

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

“I know you’re pissed-”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s too late.” Added Dean.

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

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

“You don't mean that.” Said Bobby.

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

“If he ever was.” Exhaled Dean.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“HE NEEDS HIS SIBLINGS!”

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

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

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

”...were you looking for Dean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

“Anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emily caught herself thinking about it a little too explicitly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lilith, dead.

Sam, alive.

Dean, alive.

Ruby, alive.

Everything was alright, but one.

Emily used her powers to slam Ruby into a column.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was it. Lucifer was rising.

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

#be the young

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liopleurodean · 1 year

Text

Season 8, Episode 20: Pac-Man Fever

Interesting music

Sleepy Dean

What's up with the outfit?

I'm okay with it, though

Personal soundtrack?

Nice

Whoa

More time travel shenanigans

What was that?

Woof. Trim that hair, dude

Yikes

Go back to sleep, dude

Nada. Zip. Zilch

THE GUN RANGE!!!

Nice

Definitely problem

Yikes...

Charlie!

Dude. No cell signal. Awesome

Interesting car

Aw, hugs

Nope

That's awesome

She's gonna love it

Yeah

Absolutely!

She pronounced it wrong

Hey, that's pretty cool

Oh no

Yeah...

Ouch

Too late

Absolutely not

Heck yeah!

I love Charlie

Walking on Sunshine!

Aw, he's making her an FBI badge!

Can she run, though?

Girl

But montage!

It'll do

It's problematic

Really?

Ah.

Sam.

No! It's really not!

She did the Cas thing

Right...

That's a first

Strictly routine, huh?

BOO RADLEY

Eh...

Awesome

HECK YEAH WARGAMES

Oh boy

Wow.

Dude. Poking it with a stick?

That's nasty

Me too

Sam, I swear-

GO HOME

Charlie

I love Charlie

No! Dude, no!

Yeah, research-only.

WHICH WOULD HAPPEN FASTER IF YOU WERE IN THE MOL LIBRARY

I wanna slap him so bad

SAM

Sam!

Dude.

If it's the coroner-

She does not got this

What is she doing?

Faxing sucks

Wow

Right...

It's gotta be a case

Girl power

Charlie is great

Pfft. No

I love it

But the blue

Bingo

YEAH

She's awesome

Oh yeah

Charlie...

Spooky

Tolkien and Asimov? Not sure who the third is, but nice

Uh oh

That... makes so much sense

Yikes

Of course not

Wow

Just good at computers

Who's she helping?

Charlie?

Oh, Charlie...

Yeah

Fear?

Right

There's two of them?

Oh no

Yeah

Wow

That's true

Because it's always a warehouse

She's out cold

Sam's not up for this

There we go

Charlie?

It's a thought

A rare opportunity

No, I think he does

There we go

Ah. The dream.

Dean. Stairs

Charlie.

That really does sound like her

Or a fantasy of some kind

Interesting

Right after the accident

The second one

Yeah...

This is gonna end so well

Maybe that's the key

Charlie.

She has to let her go

Oh, Charlie...

She might as well be

Both, maybe

He screwed up the whole operation

There we go

Don't save the patients

Like WarGames!

She's afraid of losing her mom

I think he does

Oh, Charlie...

She knows, Charlie

I'm glad it's Dean telling her this

Time to go

Oh, Charlie

Aw, hugs

Oh, to be held like that by Dean Winchester

The Winchesters always make it through (🥲)

Heck yeah

Yeah

Nah

Oh, Charlie

Get Star Wars'd

THE HEAD KISS

I love them

No kidding

SO MANY HUGS THIS EPISODE

Good for you, Charlie

The Hobbit?

Oh my gosh. The bunker. THE BUNKER IS A HOBBIT HOLE

#ashla chick flick moments #supernatural #season 8 episode 20 #pac man fever #pac-man fever

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dean-adorer · 3 years

Text

Strings | Part 2

Title: Strings

Pairing: Dean/Demon!Dean x OFC!Alayna

Warnings: Swearing?, Season 10 spoilers, First time writer (yes that’s a warning)

Author’s note: No plagiarism, no hate hate and feedback is gold!

PART 1

“Hmm I see. You may wanna go save Princess Samantha before it’s too late”.

To say the encounter disturbed her was an understatement, Ally called Sam about twenty times with no answer trying to figure out what the hell Dean meant when he said his brother needed saving. After the twentieth voicemail, she started loosing her shit, she had no idea where Sam was or what kind of danger he was in until she heard soft knocks on her motel room door. She retrieved her Beretta from its place under the pillow and made her way to the door peeping through the hole.

Sam was panting and bloody on the other side, she quickly put the safety of her gun back and pulled him inside checking him all over.

“What the fuck happened to you?” She couldn’t help the worry in her tone.

“Some Dean-obsessed sociopath kidnapped me, man! He wanted to use my ass as hostage, only my demon of a brother couldn’t give less of a fuck. He just left me to die, can you imagine? Tried to warn the poor bastard though, this ain’t gonna end well for him. Dean’s so gonna hate himself for that when he’s back to normal.” Despite the blood, Sam seemed to be fine. She still searched her duffle for a first aid kit to clean a few cuts and put ointment on some bruises.

“What do you mean left you to die?” Al’ was frowning, she couldn’t imagine Dean Winchester doing such a thing, even as a demon. He was way further gone than she had dared to think.

“So? How did your stalking plan go?” Asked Sam while wincing as she dabbed a cut.

“I’d say it didn’t go too good. He saw me and by the sound of it he knows you’re not too far either so change of plans.”

“Fuck, did he talk to you?”

“Hmm yeah kinda. He’s the one who told me you were in trouble. I made it seem like a coincidence, I highly doubt he bought that though” She put ointment on the last bruise and unconsciously kissed his nose boo boo like she had done so many times in the past and stopped afterwards shocked at her own gesture and how natural it felt.

Sam chuckled and soon got up noticing the uncomfortable expression she sported. He made his way to the bathroom as Ally sat on the stiff mattress deep in her thoughts. Now that Dean knew they were here, they lost the element of surprise. She wasn’t scared of him though, she could handle any version him. Al’ just wondered how far could she go into this adventure and still go back to her life bearing no scars. On a last note, she decided that the best plan was no plan in this case and that she would be going back to the bar after a good night sleep hoping to find him.

A ringtone echoed within the walls of the motel disturbing Ally’s dreamless sleep. She answered eyes closed, still too tired to completely let go.

“Hello?”

“Al’, haven’t heard from you in four days. Where the hell are you?” Noah, she should’ve guessed. He had a tendency to call at the worst times.

“Been busy. Call you in 2 minutes?” She was struggling to get the words out, her voice groggy and her mouth dry.

“Sure. Bye.” He rarely was this cold to her and she usually hated when he was but her half conscious brain couldn’t acknowledge it yet.

The time on her phone read 7:23. Al’ directed some swearwords of choice at her fiancé for waking her up from her much needed sleep. She turned around to see that Sam was still snoozing and took her time to get up and exit the room in order to argue with Noah in all privacy. He answered after the first ring, obviously not ready to let go of their conversation anytime soon.

“Bonjour to you too Noah, I’m doing great how about you? Yes I slept perfect.” He didn’t need to see her to imagine the eye roll she was directing at him.

“Cut the bullshit, where the hell are you?” Oh Oh, he was extra mad.

“How is it any of your fucking business? Told you I’d be back when I’m done which I’m not” The crisp air of the early morning and her rising anger were definitely helping with the sleepiness she was feeling moments ago. She knew her reply would trigger him and it was, in fact, kind of his business but she could never explain what was really going on and she’d rather him be mad and safe than ever tell him the disturbing truth about her other life.

“You gotta be shitting me? I’LL TELL YOU HOW IT’S MY BUSINESS! MY FUCKING FIANCE UP AND LEFT TWO MONTHS AGO LEAVING NOTHING BUT A FUCKING NOTE BEHIND, DOESN’T EXPLAIN SHIT AND EXPECTS ME TO SIT ON MY ASS WHILE SHE’S FUCKING GOD KNOWS WHO, GOD KNOWS WHERE. Ouf.” Al’ was gob smacked, she could hear his fast breathing on the other line and thought about hanging up for a second. Never had he spoken to her like that or raised his voice. Granted they had had their fair share of fights, as does everybody, but this was new to her.

“Okay let’s start by don’t you ever fucking dare raise your voice at me again if you ever wanna see my face again. If you think I left to fuck around that’s on you and I definitely do not owe you an explanation. Family comes first and I’ll come back when I feel like it’s time to come back. In the meantime, if you ain’t happy about that, you’ll get your ring in the mail and I can send somebody to pack my shit” She has been trying to keep her cool with him since this whole thing started but it was getting harder, she didn’t take shit from anybody and certainly not from him. As much as she loved him, love was replaceable, family-in good terms or not- was not.

“We’re engaged, if there’s anybody on god’s green earth you’d owe an explanation to that’d be me. I’m not gonna put up with your shit forever Al’. You can’t or won’t explain anything about anything, not your past, not the reason we have an army base worthy arsenal at home, not the weird obsession with salt, not the creepy symbols under our carpets, not why you suddenly leave to a family I know nothing of. You’ll have to start talking at some point.” She knew he had a point but she also thought he didn’t need to know any of those things in order to love her. She gave up everything to keep her demons - the literal and not so literal ones - away from her new life and she was determined to maintain it that way.

“You never questioned that in three years of relationship so why now?” She really was curious as to why he chose this moment out of all to question her “weird” habits. Ally was met with the sound of a broken line. He hung up on her. Wouldn’t be the first time. Their arguments were getting more and more heated with each call, never had they been so close to breaking up and she certainly wasn’t happy about it but the peek into her old life was bringing back an old version of herself, one she both loved and hated but mostly one that had a strong sense of priorities.

“Trouble in heaven?” She jumped out of her skin and turned around to see sleepy hazel eyes, messy longish hair and a much needed coffee from the vending machine handed to her.

“You could say that. Sorry I woke you up.” Sam and herself were heading back to their room to get ready for the day.

“You didn’t. Feel like talking about it? I can be a good listener. Plus you don’t really talk about your new life, I wanna know all the tea.” Over the course of the last weeks, she and Sam have been slowly but safely rebuilding their friendship and she was finding her bestest of friends again. She could use an ear to chew off, not talking about anything to anyone was soon going to drive her crazy.

“Man, I’m going crazy keeping all the shit to myself. What do you wanna know?”

“Well, maybe start by telling me why you really took off?” She didn’t really expect that one. She thought he would have made Dean spill all about that by now, or at least figured it out by himself.

“What about that? Thought you’d know all the deets by now.” Al’ sat next to her giant of a friend and laid her head on his shoulder needing the comfort.

“You left for a hunt and never came back Al’. My brother isn’t exactly the babbling type, I may have an idea but I want your version of things. If you’re comfortable sharing that is, I know how hard it has been on both of you” His voice a few decibels lower than usual, calm and comforting.

“Alright. As you may know, I used to hunt alone. Me myself and I on the road from the moment I could drive, nothing to care about or stick around for. My only certitude was death, I knew that someday, sooner than later, I’d go down guns blazing and that I wouldn’t be missed. I made my peace with that. Until I got dragged by your imbecile of a brother on that road trip and never looked back. I never stopped to really think about what I was getting myself into. I never thought about how from that moment, I’d have people I could care about, people I could let down, people who I’d miss. The dependence and the weakness. I had something to loose and it scared me shitless” Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulders, sensing her need for comfort. “In my ocean of loneliness and despair, Dean gave me a family, a reason to care and fight. He made me feel and feel alive and I’ll be forever grateful. But with love comes loss and I was terrified of loosing the only family I ever had. He jumped at every gun, every monster, trying to protect me from getting hurt but nothing would have ever hurt me as much as loosing him so I did the same.” She remained silent for a moment, breathing in and out, before carrying on. “There was a hunt-Cleveland, Ohio-it was supposed to be a romantic getaway hunt, some kind of shit spirit, no cock-blocking Sam.” He softly pinched her arm at the comment. “It ended up being a demon, we went in there half-cocked and it stabbed me bad. I was okay with death, I had experienced everything this shitty life had to offer and I had made my peace with my fate. I was just happy it got to be me instead of Dean. Of course, he couldn’t just let me leave. Of course not, Dean the ever self-sacrificing bastard. Obviously no demon would bargain after his little rescue from hell so he went to a witch. He bargained his soul for my life. When I woke up and realized what happened, I wanted to drag him to hell myself. I stuck around to get him out of the damn deal then packed, left and never looked back. I couldn’t keep doing that Sam.” A few tear had shed as expected. “I couldn’t keep watching him throw himself at death’s doorstep every chance he got to protect me. It’s not that I don’t get it, I would have done the same for him time and time again because I just loved him that much but it just got so destructive, so toxic and I thought that maybe if I left he’d be better off.”

“And then?” Ally could see at his expression that he had indeed never heard the story but his eyes were compassionate and understanding.

“And then I just left everything behind, changed names and numbers. My heart was broken beyond repair and I had nothing left so I used mom’s fund to open a hunter’s clinic down in Phoenix and worked my ass off. Three years ago I met Noah and he was there when I had no one and thought I’d never love anybody ever again. He proposed a year ago and here we are. I’m sorry Sam. I realize that Dean wasn’t the only one I left then but I want you to understand that I didn’t leave out of selfishness, I left out of love and it was the hardest thing I ever did. I truly want you to forgive me.”

She felt relief, it was the first time she got to open up since forever. Since she left her full-time giant, part-time confident. But here he was, listening and comforting as if she never let him down. She found herself in his warm embrace, his lips on the top of her head.

“I know Bebou, I understand now and as much as I wanna kick both your asses for keeping me in the dark, I forgive you. How can I not? You did what was best for you both and if I’m being honest, I think it kept him alive a bit longer.”

“Not long enough apparently. I know I didn’t tell you this nearly enough but I love you Sammy. And I missed you.” Al’ nuzzled closer to his chest and rejoiced in the feeling of home. He felt safe and warm. Home.

“I love you too. I’m glad I called although I wish the circumstances were different. So? What about that trouble in heaven?” She wished circumstances were different too. Curing her demon ex-lover was certainly something she could live without experiencing.

“Well I told you about Noah. He’s the furthest thing from a hunter and doesn’t know shit about this life which i couldn’t me more grateful for but since I left he has been asking questions I can’t answer and it has been taking its toll on our relationship.”

“Shit, I’m sorry about that Al’. Wish we had been done with this sooner.” Ally got up from her place on the bed and looked for her bag. It held something she really needed at the moment.

“Don’t apologize Sam. This is Dean we’re talking about, we’ll figure it out. Let’s get a few more hours of sleep, I really don’t feel like functioning right now and once back on track we’ll figure out something.”

“Is that a blunt you’re rolling? Not thinking about sharing?” Sam was raising his eyebrows at her thinking that old habits die hard.

“Well, I sure as hell need something to chase the nightmares. Always with you Sammy.” She finished by licking her masterpiece closed and jumped on the bed ready to relax.

Her head was heavy as they made their way to the bar after their little trip above the clouds. The 2pm heat wasn’t helping and she couldn’t help but wonder how the Winchesters didn’t suffocate with their damn layers. As they got there, she convinced Sam that it was for the best if she went in alone for two reasons. First, he’d get the element of surprise if anything went wrong although Dean would surely figure it out. Second, he didn’t handle the smoking as well as he used to.

“Okay, remember, if anything goes even remotely sideways I’ll be right there” Sam looked at her intently awaiting her acknowledgment.

“Got it. Although, demon or not you know I can handle your brother.”

“I certainly do not doubt that. Alright, go kick ass.”

Ally entered the bar noticing that they didn’t have company. Dean was sat alone at the piano, a glass of whiskey and what she assumed was the first blade by its fully mug sitting on the body of the instrument. To her, he was beauty in its purest form and it took her a lot to not get distracted by the power he was emanating. His upper body and broad shoulders stood proud but she felt the slight, almost unnoticeable defeat at the tilt of his head downwards.

She kept her goal in sight and walked behind the bar to pour herself a drink not saying a word then found a seat on a stool.

“Thought I’d see again around here. To what do I owe the pleasure again?” He didn’t move to look at her and she was glad. He knew her too well.

“Thought I’d drop by and say hi. Long time no see.” She finished her glass and indulged in another one.

“You did. Now you can get Sammy over there and get the hell out of here before shit goes real bad real quick.” He had now raised his eyes to hers to make his point. This Dean was getting on her nerves.

“Oh yeah? What kind of shit are we talking about here? Because you see, I don’t think it can get any badder than black eyes. Humor me.” Ally was stalling. She didn’t know for what but she was. He got up and took a few steps in her direction

“Don’t play games with me Alayna. If you came to “take me home”, you can look the other way. All you gotta do is leave and i won’t-“ His sentence was cut short by the break of a window and something rolling on the floor. Fast enough, the room was all foggy and the gaz made her pass out. Dean carried her to the back door and set her down to look at the intruder. She opened her eyes in time to see Dean circling a shorter man holding a gun.

“You’re the guy who was supposed to put a bullet in Sammy’s brain. Did you miss?” Well that makes sense. He’s small for a guy who got a hand over Sam.

“Nah, I had a better idea. Figured if I let your bro escape, he’d come running to ya and all I had to do was tag along. Although I must admit, I should’ve thought about the girlfriend.” Her brain was still in a fog as she tried to understand what was going on. Apparently Dean had killed the dude’s old man and he was here for pay back. He really couldn’t have chosen a worse moment. She figured this version of Dean wasn’t one with mercy. And she was right, the hunter was a distinguished fighter on his worst day but as a Knight Of Hell? He was a war weapon. Cole or whatever his name is was getting more and more frustrated and Dean was savoring it. Ally silently stood on her feet, walking up to Dean from behind and seizing the opportunity of him being distracted to cuff his wrists. Sam got out of the car and ran to her as soon as she was done and she fell on her ass, inhaling deep breaths as Sasquatch pushed Dean into the backseat of her Charger.

She let Sam take the lead in Baby, stopping by the motel then driving all the way back to the bunker. She had to knock Dean out a few times to shut him up, his sass and sarcasm were getting old. As they pulled up at the entrance of the garage, she noticed a car that she knew all too well.

“ Fuck!” Her head hit the wheel, she wanted to disappear right then and there. One crisis was enough, she couldn’t manage two. Ally didn’t even want to know how that came to happen. As if on cue, Sam pulled up behind her and came knocking on her window.

“Who’s that?” Asked Sam with a worried expression.

“Noah, fuck I can’t do this.” She brought her hand to her face trying to think through the situation. How could she explain anything without blowing up everything? She was too deep in her thoughts to notice that Dean had gotten out of the car and was now banging on the driver window of the Jeep in front of them.

“Oh no no no, this can’t be happening!” San walked to his brother yanking him towards the front door giving her the chance to climb into the passenger side of her fiancé’s truck.

“How the fuck did you get here? No, scratch that, WHAT THE FUCK are you doing here Noah?” She was red with anger and anticipation was eating at her.

“You’ve been gone for two months, what hell do you expect me to do Ally? I had no idea where you were, with who or anything about this so called mission of yours? Do you even realize how fucked that is? I tracked your phone and drove all the way here and to see what? That you’ve just been hanging around with some lumberjacks in middle of nowhere Kansas? Maybe i wasn’t so wrong about this whole thing anyways.” Ally was, and putting it lightly, seconds away from imploding. She didn’t what was worse, the fact that he insinuated she was a whore or that he tracked.

“It’s taking everything within me to not punch you in the face right now. Talk about them again like that and I just might and it ain’t gonna be pretty. The guys you just saw are Sam and Dean, the family I was talking about. We just back from the thing we had to sort out. Now you can leave. I’ll be home in a few days.”

She put her head against the seat and tried to breathe properly, keeping the anger at bay.

“The same Dean you keep a picture of inside your wallet? Are you not even gonna invite me in? I deserve at least that.”

“How the f- Who gave you the damn right to go through my stuff? And no, this is not my place and I don’t think you’re welcome. Now let me tell you what’s gonna happen? I’m gonna go in and be there for my family while you’re gonna get your ass back to Arizona and this conversation isn’t over so we’ll pick up where we left off when I’m back.” She didn’t let him answer and got out of the car rubbing her temples. She said the word family so many times she felt like Dom Toretto. She was hoping he didn’t notice how she faltered at the mention of the picture in her wallet. What was sure is that he figured who Dean was to her before he even got here.

Al’ made her way into the bunker without looking back and was met with the sounds of screams coming from somewhere far into the maze. The screams were getting louder the closer she got to the dungeon. She was there in time to see Sam injecting another dose and Dean screaming until he passes out.

“Sam, he doesn’t look so fresh. You sure this shit works? Because if it doesn’t we may just be killing him.” Dean started sweating and shivering, grunting in his passed out state and she was worried.

“It should be working, it did on Crowley. I need to freshen up, can you keep an eye or three on him?” He sure as hell needed it so she just nodded and walked towards a chair in the corner of the room facing Dean.

His head was hanging low and the smooth strands of hair were hiding his face. It was an ideal and just peaceful enough moment for her to start reflecting. She did that a lot, she needed to keep things in check in her head. It could be anxiety inducing and exhausting at times to think so much but as a grand philosopher once said “I think therefore I am”, Descartes’ words were wise and comforting. She was thinking about Noah and the clinic, about the life she needed to get back to and the one she left behind, she also couldn’t help but worry about Dean as he was sitting right in front of her looking sick and in pain.

Although her thoughts were raging, Ally was starting to get bored and decided to get something to read from the room right outside the dungeon. She was going through the records while keeping an eye on Dean when she heard something drop to the floor and as she turned around to check felt a heavy blow to the temple before everything went black. Her body dropped to the floor not being able to brace its fall.

She came to her senses a few moments later, she didn’t know if she was out for minutes or hours but her head was throbbing and the room was pitch black if not for the occasional red emergency light. Ally tried to get up but the dizziness brought her back down against the shelves, her lids closing on their own.

Her eyelids fluttered as she attempted to open her eyes but the headache was making it difficult. She winced and tried getting up in a seating position to analyze her surroundings, the last thing she remembered was waking up on the floor who knows how long ago and passing out again.

She realized she was in her room in the bunker and a small knock on the door caught her attention. A man with piercing blue eyes wearing a trench coat appeared at the doorstep.

“May I?” His gravely voice is comforting unlike all those years ago

“Cas? Hey man, long time no see.” Seeing him sent her back to all those hopeless nights she spent praying to him, praying to him to protect Dean, praying to him to give her guidance. She didn’t believe in much but even then, apocalypse and all, she believed in him.

“Hello Alayna” He got closer and sat at the edge of her bed, with a touch to her forehead she felt warmth spreading along her body. The throbbing in her head was gone.

“Where’s Dean?” His already constipated face expression got more tense before answering.

“In his room” Castiel replied casting his eyes to the floor.

“Is he…?” She didn’t finish her question in hopes he would understand without her spelling it out.

“Yes, he’s himself again” At his words, Ally pulled back the blankets covering her lower half and sat up, determined to go speak to him. She wrapped Cas in a hug which to her surprise, he returned warmly and walked out the door towards a certain room 11.

“I wouldn’t…” Cas’ words fell into deaf ears as she was already half way there.

Alayna stood before the golden numbers and exhaled once then twice before knocking on the door. No noise was coming from inside the room and she wondered for a second if Cas had been wrong about his whereabouts. Until she heard his voice.

“For the hundredth time Sam, I’m fine, really. Nothing good porn and strong booze can’t fix.” He sounded tired, physically and mentally exhausted. And she knew better than anyone how false was his statement. She always had hundreds of words to describe him but “Fine” never was one of them.

She thought about going back to her room and letting him get the much needed rest but talked herself out of it, this was not the right moment to be a pussy. He needed someone to pick up and mend his broken pieces, wether he was willing to admit to himself or not, and she was more than willing to. He deserved nothing less.

“Can I come in?” She sounded shy and uncertain, very much unlike herself.

Footsteps resonated before the door was slowly opened revealing the green eyed man who haunted most of her dreams. He looked as tired as he sounded, his hair was disheveled as if he ran his hand through it countless times, and if the blueish under-eye bags and prominent crinkles were not indication enough, the look in his eyes definitely was. If the circumstances were different she would have found his attire endearing, the sponge-bob PJ pants still pulled a slight smirk at the corner of her mouth. Dean opened and closed mouth a couple time, like a fish out of water, before he was shut up by the arms wrapping around his torso.

“I know. It’s fine.” She said, her voice calm and gentle.

After a beat, he finally put his arms around her and laid his head on hers exhaling slowly.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have been there in the first place. What are you doing here, Al’?”

She couldn’t see his face expression to know if she should be offended by his words or not so she pulled back and stared for a second before walking past him and settling on the mattress. There was no trace of anger in his eyes, at least not directed to her.

“God, why is it that you’re the one who gets memory foam?” Al’ couldn��t help but ask as she sank into the said mattress.

“Well, I ain’t getting younger, I’d say it’s a necessity”

He sat next to her and they remained silent for half a minute before Ally spoke up again.

“I heard you went dark side. Couldn’t help but join the rescue mission. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?” She wanted to keep the conversation rather light for the time being

“The sane kind. I’m sorry Sammy dragged you here. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he could get the Hulk under control and it’s good seeing you but I know you wanted out. He shouldn’t ‘ve pulled you back in.” Dean said while setting his elbows on his lap, looking straight ahead.

“Does that make him Black Widow? I mean he already got the hair going on and I’d pay to see him in that suit.” He chuckled, it was not quite a laugh but Ally was glad. She could now clearly see the weight of the world pressing on his shoulders. “Sam didn’t drag anybody here. I wanted to help, was the least I could do after-… you know. And I’m not BACK per se, I’m hitting the road first thing tomorrow. Also, for the love of god stop apologizing” He was looking at her as she kept talking, slightly flinching indicating he, in fact, did know what she was alluding to.

“Nah that’s you, you’re the badass chick in the family but man so would I.” He paused and looked around until his eyes landed on the band around her ring finger. “So… Tomorrow huh? Douche in the car from earlier got anything to do with that?” She sighed at his question, he truly was the last person she wanted to talk relationships with.

“Shut up I’m Stark. Hum, yeah and no? It’s just time to go back home I guess. I put my life on hold to help Sam and you’re back to being Bruce so my work here is done I presume. I have things to fix or end, depending on how that conversation goes.” She said while fiddling with her engagement ring. If she was to be honest with herself, she wasn’t thrilled to go back. The last few months had been lots of fun if not for the demon situation, she hadn’t felt alive like that in a long time. Ally pertinently knew how grim and depression inducing the hunting life was but it’s all she ever knew and letting go of that felt like letting go of who she was.

——

“I hope that conversation goes your way, whichever way that is. I’m happy for you sweetheart, you deserve what you got going on. Might swing by that clinic if something drags us to Arizona.” That was only half a lie on Dean’s behalf. When Sam filled him in earlier, he didn’t mention the ring on her finger but she did deserve to be happy. In fact she deserved the very best but it tore his already shattered heart to know he couldn’t be that for her. Not then and certainly not now, their strings have been going separate ways for a while now.

After what he had been through lately, his head was a shit show and seeing her did nothing to help with that. It only brought new emotions to deal with. He could now add hopelessness and heartbreak to the list of sorrows he was drowning in a bottle tonight. That thought was his cue to get up, dismissing the question held in her eyes, and head to the library looking for one of the 3 J’s, whichever he came across first. Apparently tonight was one for Jack.

There was a bottle in his drawer, he just needed a breather away from Ally. Last time he saw her, she was walking away from him, leaving him to piece again a heart that wasn’t even his anymore. She was his whole world wrapped in jeans and flannel and her presence was overwhelming. The whole situation was overwhelming and all he could think about was getting hammered and sleeping it off. Once back in his room, he chose to slide to the floor leaning against his bed instead of taking his previous place next to her. He opened the whiskey bottle in his hand, took a large enough gulp to make anyone else choke and handed it to her before he set his forearms on his knees deep in thought.

“I know you said you were fine. And I know you’re done with everyone asking if you’re okay. I also know you wouldn’t talk even if I held a damn knife to your throat. But Dean I’m leaving tomorrow and we’re probably not running into each other for a while if not ever again so you can let go and talk to me. Just tonight. And it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” The thought of not seeing her again made him reach for the bottle, which she handed wordlessly.

“Even if I wanted to I wouldn’t know where to start. It’s all so fucked up up here.” Dean said as he felt her slide down to join him on the floor, grabbing the bottle from his hand.

“Maybe start by telling me what happened to you. I know it comes with the job description but I don’t remember you being so… broken.”

*Part 3 in the works

@ocfairygodmother

#deanwinchtser #dean x OC #dean one shot #fanfic #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #part 2 #ocfairygodmother

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rewatching-supernatural · 3 years

Text

s04e22

Season finale, here we go

You walk out that door, don't you ever come back

*****

Bobby's not giving up on his boys ❤️

*****

Bobby Singer: [Talking about Sam] Dean? Dean! You listen to a word I said?

Dean Winchester: Yeah, I heard you. I'm not calling him.

Bobby Singer: Don't make me get my gun, boy.

Dean Winchester: We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon. Don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?

Bobby Singer: I know you're pissed, and I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your...

Dean Winchester: Blood? He's my blood? Is that what you were gonna say?

Bobby Singer: He's your brother. And he's drowning.

Dean Winchester: Bobby, I tried to help him, but... look what happened.

Bobby Singer: So try again.

Dean Winchester: It's too late.

Bobby Singer: There's no such thing.

Dean Winchester: No, damnit! No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life, ran away to Stanford the first chance he got. Now it's like deja vu all over again. Well I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him. He can do what he wants.

Bobby Singer: You don't mean that.

Dean Winchester: Yes I do, Bobby. Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore. If he ever was.

Bobby Singer: [turns and leans on the table, fuming. After a moment he makes a big angry sweep with his hands, tossing books and papers to the ground. He advances on DEAN, who stands] You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good, make you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!

Dean Winchester: I told him, "you walk out that door, don't come back" and he walked out anyway! That was his choice!

Bobby Singer: You sound like a whiny brat. No, you sound like your dad. Well, let me tell you something: Your dad was a coward.

Dean Winchester: My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?

Bobby Singer: He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him. That don't strike me as brave. You are a better man than your daddy ever was. So you do both of us a favor. Don't be him.

*****

Beers and burgers, Dean's favourite things

*****

"You swore your obedience, so obey."

Cas looks so uncomfortable, avoiding Dean's eyes and looking down

he knows it's wrong

*****

Dean calling Sammy 😭❤️😭❤️

*****

Dean smashing the angel and Cas appears 😂

"I need you to take me to Sam."

"I don't think that's wise."

"Well, I didn't ask you for your opinion."

...

"Through what door?"

*****

Ah, the truth

Dean learning the truth

demons <- humans -> angels

and Dean must kill Lucifer

"Where's God in all this?"

"God? God has left the building."

*****

"Why are you here, Cas?"

to apologize, and look guilty

"it's all a bunch of lies, you stupid son of a bitch!"

"No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it."

"If there is anything worth dying for... this is it."

"You're already dead, we're done. We're done."

*****

// sidenote: I am hungry and this episode is so lonnnng

*****

That's not the actual message

who changed it, uh?

Ruby? an angel?

*****

Dean was about to eat and then who shows up? Castiel, drawing on the wall, to save Dean

Disobedience

*****

Lilith IS the final seal 😉

*****

Cas and Dean inventing free will to stop the Apocalypse and escape Zachariah

*****

Ruby's real intentions are obvious now, aren't they? 😉

*****

Sam interrupted by Dean's screams

but he's still a monster

a demon

*****

and he just broke the final seal

*****

SAM YOU FUCKING IMBECILE

I HATE YOU

GOD

😠😠😠

*****

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spnsmile · 4 years

Text

Go Green /Writers Month Prompt: Cute Meet

It’s the championship of the CWCar series season 15 in the Texas Motor Speedway 5000 with the grand stadium already packed of a hundred thousand screeching fans cheering on their favorite motorist despite the warm and smoldering late afternoon heat in the stands. The excitement is palpable amidst the roaring engines, the clatter of gears, the clamor of the overly enthusiastic crowd, and thundering of thousands of impatient feet. The reek of burnt rubber and oil blends with the sweet aroma of food and snacks brought in as everyone awaits the beginning of the race.

From the commentator’s box booms the voices of the resident commentator Gabriel Novak, with his partner Chuck Shurley both watching the monitors and the race bar with quick eyes and witty remarks ready at hand, entertaining the crowd until the official time starts.

“We have commentator expert Castiel Novak with us here, and yes people we got similar last name not because we are husbands, but because we are brothers,” Gabriel is saying dynamically, fully equipped with a headphone like his partner and his brother, while twirling a pen in his hand, “so ladies and gentlemen, the three gentlemen here are still available,” the crowd jeers and throws caps in the air.

Two large screens show the media coverage from above, screening the top drivers with their respective colored uniforms and teams, close up one after another. Chuck takes the mic.

“It’s time for the season 15 of Texas Motor Speedway which will turn on the lights in half an hour, the track is really hot with a bit of wind but we all know that once the sun is down a different kind of blaze is going to ignite the night, with the speed of more than 2 hundred miles an hour. Last week was about survival with ten racers out of the league— tonight is the judgment. The last time our series was in glory was last year, when this everything-in-one-package, Dean Winchester—”

The widescreen shows a very handsome man with clean-cut light brown hair wearing a fit blue racing suit and matching black sports cap in the middle of wearing his gloves. The crowd goes wild and Dean Winchester lifts his eyes to the screen, revealing a pair of deep green eyes that sparkles brightly. He smiles at the camera with dimples showing, corner of his eyes crinkling. Crowd screams.

“And he kills,” Gabriel comments, “Way to win the crowd, what an ace heartthrob, Dean Winchester—"

“No wonder the number of our crowd’s tripled in digits—he sold tickets for the next five years—” comments Chuck lightly. “What can you say about his track record, Castiel?... Cas—?”

Gabriel and Chuck both look at Castiel who is staring at the screen unblinkingly.

“Cassie?” Gabriel calls again.

Castiel half glances at his brother then nod, acknowledging the question.

“He is certainly a very beautiful man,”

Gabriel and Chuck exchange glances. The camera doesn’t cut from Dean who stares up the commentator’s box before walking back to his racing car where his team is making last-minute checks.

“He is, he is,” Chuck says after the pause, “He’s the first local winner in the series and is the defending race winner here in Texas.”

“Remarkable,” Castiel narrows his eyes, “I think I found a favorite.”

“You have to fall in line,” Gabriel‘s lips quirk up, while Chuck laughs and goes, “Is that a dib, Castiel?”

Castiel more or less inclined his head, eyes not moving from the screen.

“I think my brother knows what’s he’s talking about, he’s the expert,” Gabriel pipes on, “But tell you what, Dean Winchester has to gear it up if he wants to defend his title. He’s three points behind the point leader, Dick Roman who’s a season favorite too, a powerhouse, not to mention Winchester’s just two points ahead of Amara, your sister— a very fearsome racer—"

“It’s a family race.”

“—in order to win this year’s championship.” Noise from the crowd, a little boo, and more thumping of feet.

“I don’t doubt Dean Winchester will win, he’s got the best asset I’ve ever seen,” Castiel shuffles through the paper containing the participant’s information, “Very good statistics and talent. He’s got both my hands down in winning this race.”

“Castiel, your type is showing.” Gabriel snickers on the microphone. Castiel scowls exactly as Gabriel hits the monitor tab showing the commentator stand on the widescreen too. Gabriel focuses the screen on Castiel who squints at the camera then turns to his brother.

“I don’t have a type.”

“Oh, yes you do. Or at least, now Dean Winchester knows who’s late and at the end of the line of his great wall of China long list of fans. That, people of Texas, is my brother with the fierce baby blue eyes— our expert guest on the field—"

“Gabriel, we got ten left,” Chuck whispers to his friend who nods but there’s the crack of another microphone—static sound that made the trio look at each other—then a rough voice deep has the stands both screaming again as Dean Winchester’s face appears on the second screen. He has apparently approached one of the reporters on the field, smiling boyishly at the screen with his attractive vibrant face making everyone swoon.

“Uh, hey—hey, Gabriel!” he waves.

“Hey, Deano, my man!” Gabriel looks down his watch then up at Dean in surprise, “Aren’t you supposed to be in your racing car, now?”’

“Oh yeah, just saw something… uh, curious—our race expert—Cas—Cas Novak?”

Chuck and Gabriel turn to Castiel already watching the screen. He doesn’t speak even when Chuck prods him to, he just stares at Dean Winchester, two monitor screens showing their faces, staring at each other.

There’s a hush that fell in the stadium.

“You think I’m gonna win this, Cas?” Dean’s face is shining with a playful curl on the corner of his mouth.

“It’s Castiel,” Castiel replies, voice gravelly, “and yes,”

Dean presses his lips and forces down his smile, but the wide monitor couldn’t possibly hide his apparent blush that reveals the number of sunflower freckles on his cheeks. Castiel inhales as Dean swipes his tongue on his bottom lip.

“Yeah, so uh… if I do, would you come down here in the pit road to congratulate me? Say hello?” he sounds hopeful.

Gabriel and Chuck raise eyebrows at each other. The whole arena has fallen silent. Castiel doesn’t look away from the Dean on the screen his deadpan expression not changing. Then he touches his mic-

“It’s go green.”

Dean flashes a vibrant smile too blinding— just as all the lights turned on in the race track. Hearts skipping beats, Castiel and Dean gaze at each other from great distance, wordless and yearning but was cut short when Chuck leans on his microphone and shouts— “Texas Motor Speedway turns on the lights—!”

“Idjit!” they heard Bobby Singers, Dean’s manager, shout somewhere on the field on the microphone. "On your pitstop, boy! Flirt later!"

Dean waves cheekily and dashes off. There’s a pandemonium of cheers and shouts as the race cars get in their line. The monitor clicks back to the race with Dean Winchester climbing his car now wearing his helmet. He slides in his race car with ease and with the help of his team managed to get in line.

Gabriel whistles.

“Well, there goes your second lead racer, he is definitely a man with a mission. One thing for sure, and we are certain, from the last spot on the line comes an outstanding leap— Castiel Novak makes it to Dean Winchester’s number one spot~” Gabriel and Chuck exchange high five while Castiel clears his throat with a serious case of coloring on his face.

Two minutes later— the flag of the track is raised and brought down in the air

“And— we got a go green from Texas!” Chuck cries—but the race track is already burning fire. Sharp sounds speeding wheels on the track—people screaming—and crashes— groans from the stands— it was a long haul, tiring and dangerous with cries and cheers and embraces along the way.

In the end, there’s only one victor celebrated in the middle of the flash of lights and media attention. Only one guy to take the glory. He stands there carrying the championship cup with a wreath of flowers around his neck, waving and shouting with his team.

Then they find each other. It's the eye contact at first, then drawing close towards each other second, and shyly they stepped in flat ground, facing each other finally after the long night.

It’s Dean Winchester’s win.

“Hello, Dean.” (x)

#haha #destiel fic #destiel #prompt cute meet #aww #day 128 #writersmonth2020

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allsassnoclass · 4 years

Note

Mashton “now his tummy’s gonna be full of mud”

Gregory I am genuinely so enraged that you asked me to write this but I am a humble entertainer who dances to the whims of the audience so. Boo hiss here this is.

Heads up for copious Supernatural references. Also they’re both American in this. It takes place on November 5th.

Mashton: “now his tummy’s gonna be full of mud”

"Ashton," Michael says urgently, staring at his phone.

"What?" Ashton asks, heart pounding. Has another state flipped? Have ballots been counted enough to call another win or loss? Michael stays silent for a moment longer, then moves a hand to cover his mouth. Ashton can't tell if this reaction is positive or negative, and it sends his anxiety spiking, as if it hasn't already been bad enough since he woke up on Tuesday.

"Michael, what is it?"

"Destiel is canon."

Ashton blinks.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Destiel, from Supernatural, was made canon in tonight's episode. Then I think they killed him."

"Killed which one?" Ashton asks, because how else is he supposed to respond?

"Cas. Apparently he confessed his love and then, like, immediately died. They really did a speed run bury your gays."

"What the fuck?" he asks faintly, moving next to Michael on the couch so he can properly see his phone.

Ashton hasn't exactly been keeping up with the show, but he used to be a fan. The first few seasons were really good, actually. There's some interesting points to be made about American loneliness and the portrayal of masculinity in post-9/11 Bush administration, and Ashton is always a sucker for strong family dynamics in media. There's something familiar about Dean's loyalty and Sam's aspirations, and Ashton has read up about the influence Kerouac and Siken had on the development of the premise and Kripke's vision.

He stopped watching somewhere in season six, so he wasn't overly invested in Destiel, but he can see the appeal of it. The concept of an angel of the Lord pulling a repressed homosexual man out of eternal damnation and falling in love with him while they both fight against a predetermined reality really could've been a beautiful story if they hadn't ruined it with the rest of the show.

It's just a monster-of-the-week show that devolved into something slightly worse, but Ashton enjoys romanticizing it a little.

"Where's the clip?" he asks. Michael searches around and manages to find it, and he turns up the volume and tilts his phone so they both can see better. Ashton recoils slightly at how deep their voices are, because he forgot that both actors torture themselves like that this late in the game, but then he's quickly drawn in to watching the most perplexing love confession he's ever seen.

"What the fuck?" he says to himself once it's finished. He has no clue what the context was, but he was so distracted by the weird acting and editing that he's not sure if he really needs it.

"Dude, Dean didn't even reciprocate," Michael says. "That was genuinely the most homophobic love confession they could've done."

"Well, he could come back to life," Ashton says. "There's two episodes left. Maybe they'll somehow save him and then Dean will do an equally cringe-worthy love confession and they'll actually live happily."

"Yeah, maybe," Michael says. Ashton hums, and then Michael starts giggling.

"Destiel became canon before we got the election results," he says.

"Well," Ashton says, starting to laugh a little himself. "It's 2020. Might as well throw canon Destiel in there."

"What the fuck," Michael says, and suddenly they're both full-on laughing, because yeah, what the actual fuck? They're in the middle of a global pandemic, waiting for the results of the most important election of their life so far, living through about five major historical events a week, and suddenly Destiel becomes canon in the most homophobic way possible, complete with a possibly-unrequited love, weird acting and editing, and then immediate use of the bury your gays trope. There's nothing to do but laugh. Ashton feels like God gave Samuel Beckett the pen and let him write this year, because things are quickly approaching absurdism.

"I kind of want to watch the first episode with Cas now," Michael says. "Knowing that this is what he ends up with, I think it'll be funny to see the beginning.

"It's on Netflix," Ashton says. "We could. There's nothing stopping us."

Ashton has two papers due on Thursday and half of a book that he has to finish by tomorrow, but it's not like he was having much luck focusing on it before, anyway. What harm will one episode of Supernatural do?

"We're doing it," Michael says. He probably has his own block of homework he needs to steadily be working through, but Ashton certainly isn't going to call him on it. Michael has been nothing but nerves, fear, and irritability since Tuesday, and it's nice to see him smiling.

Who knew that canon Destiel would be the way to accomplish that?

Michael sets up the TV while Ashton clears the coffee table so they can put their feet up if they so desire.

"You know he doesn't appear until the end of the episode, right?" Ashton says. "I don't actually remember if they really talk in this one."

"Then we'll watch the next episode too. This isn't amateur hour, Ashton. I want to see Castiel have a fully conversation with the love of his life!"

"Alright," Ashton says. "Want to just binge the entire season?"

"We'll see," Michael says, sitting closer than he was before and pulling a blanket off the back of the couch to cover their laps. Ashton puts his arm along the back of the couch so Michael can cuddle up if he wants. He's always been pretty tactile, but with the election he's been too jittery to ask Ashton for contact. Maybe he'll settle enough here to accept some.

"Ready?" Michael asks, holding the remote. He doesn't wait for a response before pressing play, and they talk the entire way through "The Road So Far," trying to remind each other what context they need when neither of them have actually watched the show in years.

"Hey, how is he going to get out?" Ashton asks when Dean starts banging on the lid of his coffin. "That's a lot of dirt he has to dig through. It'd be too heavy and he'd probably suffocate."

"He's just going to eat the dirt," Michael says with a straight face, and that sends Ashton into another fit of giggles.

"What the fuck, Michael," he laughs.

"Why not?" Michael asks, trying to hold back his own smile. "Do you see another way for him to get out of there?"

"Maybe his angel boyfriend will help him."

Dean's hands break through the Earth, and Michael turns an unimpressed look to him.

"Do you see Castiel anywhere?"

Ashton concedes his point until Michael starts complaining about Dean breaking in to the nearby gas station and guzzling water.

"He's been dead! He's probably really thirsty, and it's not like they haven't done worse."

"Now his tummy's gonna be full of mud," Michael laments, and that starts Ashton laughing again.

"He didn't eat the dirt!"

"How else did he get out, Ashton?" Michael says, but he's laughing now, too, a delighted, high-pitched sound that Ashton loves, shoulders releasing some of the tension that has built up there.

"Pay attention, he's calling Bobby," Ashton says, and Michael slumps against him. He keeps up a stream of commentary, cheering when Castiel finally appears at the end, then talks all the way through the next few episodes, too. The only reason that Ashton realizes he's fallen asleep on his shoulder is the suspicious lack of talking once they reach the seventh episode of the night.

Michael hasn't been sleeping well. Neither of them have, really, but the dark circles stand out more under his eyes than Ashton's. They should probably part ways and head off to separate beds, but Ashton is loath to wake him. Instead, he carefully grabs the remote and turns the volume down just a little. He shifts slightly, only enough so neither of them will get a crink in their necks, and rests his own head on top of Michael's. He's out by the time the episode switches over again.

#my writing #drabble #mashton #gregory #I think. I have a lot of thoughts about seasons 1-5 of supernatural #and I can direct anyone who wants to a blog that explains it pretty well #Gregory I genuinely can't believe you sent me this I'm so angry #and YES I'm going to psychoanalyze the fact that you sent it for mashton #and not one of the other pairings #also I've been writing so many college aus lately #like genuinely two other prompts in my inbox will probably end up being college aus #probably three #I think I need to chill just a little

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nissanmaxima · 6 years

Text

Mixed Match Magic

A/N: Yes, The Lunatic Fringe is back and to celebrate why don’t we have a fanfic for the day. You’re Welcome Ambrose Lovers. Also, I know I’m late shut up n,n. And I kinda sorta rushed this so sorry! I’ll edit it later! Critique needed!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were preparing for a backstage segment. You only knew your lines. Creative didn’t even bother to tell you who’s working with you in the segment. Kayla, the backstage interviewer, walked up with a smile on her face, ready to interview me. The cameraman gave a countdown. You fixed your hair and began the interview with Kayla.

“(Y/R/N), how does it feel to know that your Mixed Match Partner, The Miz is not going to be able to compete with you due to injury?”

“You know, Kayla, it’s actually reassuring that he won’t be my partner because if we were to actually go on and be partners, with the stuck up attitude he has, I would’ve suplexed him through the damn announcement table, so thank god I’m not his partner. Now I just need to find a partner...”

As if on cue, Kurt Angle showed up and asked you to come to his office. Curiosity and fear ran up your spine like a mouse running up the clock. You didn’t know what to do or say or even think! There mere thought of getting suspended or fired made my blood run cold. But, you hadn’t done anything so why worry about something as extreme as that? Anyways, you walked up to a metal door that had silver letters on it that spelled out ‘General Manager’. You knocked on the door and heard a gruff voice say ‘Come in’. You slowly opened the door, physically preparing yourself for what’s to come.

Surprisingly, nothing was wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Hey (Y/R/N), good to see you!”

“Yeah, you too Kurt! I was actually nervous about this little meet!”

“No need to be nervous! I’ve actually got some good news for you!”

Curiosity was at it’s peak with you as you kept the conversation going.

“Oh? What is it?”

“Well, since Miz is out of the Mixed Match Challenge due to a neck injury, I was thinking you deserved to be in the Mixed Match Challenge with someone, even if you first partner was injured...”

Excitement bubbled up inside you. You continued to let him talk.

“So, I paired you with someone I think you’ll love.”

As if on cue again, someone knocked on Kurt’s door. You walked to the door and opened it. Your eyes widened as you stared at the person at the door. The person smirked at you and walked past you to Kurt. You turned around and stared at Kurt. You put two-and-two together and screamed. You took your time to look the person up and down. The person was a man, with a buzzcut, broad shoulders, dark grey jeans and a sleeveless top that read ‘Return To Society’ with a D and an A in it. I knew who this man was, but I didn’t think 9 months of rehab and rest could change a person so much. You tuned your head to listen to Kurt as he spoke.

“This man right here, is the new and improved, Dean Ambrose and he will be your new Mixed Match Challenge partner for this season.”

Before you could hear anymore, you bear hugged Dean, being careful of his arm. He hugged back with just as much love, it’d been so long since you’ve seen each other. You’d missed him so much and vice versa. You never even had a chance to tell him your feelings. You’d hoped that he’d share the same emotions.

It was time for MMC to start and you were nervous. Number 1: Because you were paired with someone who just came back from injury and you didn’t want them to get injured again. Number 2: Because this is your first time ever in MMC and Number 3: You were just plain up and down nervous. You saw Dean come out of the Men’s locker room and to the curtain. You followed him and stood by the curtain as well. You theme played as you walked threw the curtain and down the ramp. You entrance consisted of flips and tricks, making the audience turn their head towards you. You hugged a little boy who was smiling like a nerd. You laughed at the thought of that.

You entered the ring and asked for a mic. Once handed a mic, you began to speak, words laced with such sarcasm as you spoke:

“Oh where, oh where, oh where could my partner be? He didn’t come though the curtain and down the ramp so where could he be?”

The crowd was silent as you spoke, catching their attention even more.

“Let’s cut to the chase, the most obnoxious, self-absorbed, cowardly jerk isn’t coming out tonight! Yay!”

The crowd erupted with every insult you said about The Miz. Cheers, Jeers and Boos were as loud as your microphone. A smirk appeared on your lips as you continued after it’d quieted down:

“I may not have the Miz, which I’m actually really happy about. But Bayley, you may have the Demon King in your corner...”

Loud screams could be heard from the nosebleeds as you paused.

“But I have a Lunatic in mine!”

Bayley and Balor couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Staring at the tron as you doubled over in laughter. A motorcycle rev was heard around the ring as the Lunatic’s theme played. The crowd screamed out of sheer joy and happiness.

The match was long, fun and most importantly, unforgettable. Dean was clutching his arm as Balor kept attacking it. You winced every time it was damaged. Dean soon made a comeback as he built his momentum. He kicked Balor and they both fell, wanting to tag in their partners.

Dean tagged you in and you ran threw the ropes, giving Bayley clothesline after clothesline, a swinging neck-breaker and a pin to finish it off. Bayley kicked out at two. You picked her up but she kept giving blows to the stomach. You took a step back and she threw you into the turn buckle. She ran into you, throwing her elbow into your jaw. She rolled back and did her signature “Whoooooa” and ran back, but you slipped out in time and she hit her chin on the top turnbuckle. You slipped your arm between her legs and pulled her into a pin. Again, she kicked out at 2 and a half. Sweat was running down your face, Bayley wasn’t giving up without a fight! You got up first, dragged her by the hair and kicked her in the stomach. You ran into the ropes and wrapped your legs around her neck and held her arm behind her back. The Octopus Hold, a submission move you were known for having. Bayley was fighting, struggling to move her arm and counter, but you were too strong. Just before Bayley was about to tap out, Finn pulled you leg, causing you to fall on your face. Dean came out of nowhere and threw Finn out of the ring, with him following. You ran to the ropes to see if he was okay, but Bayley caught you and did a roll-up pin. Luckily, you kicked out at two and somehow you kicked her in the stomach again. You locked The Octopus Hold back in and this time, Bayley tapped out.

The bell rung and you let her go. She rolled out of the ring and crawled to Finn. Dean ran back in and hugged you so tight, you could barely breathe. You hugged back with just as much force. Tears were in your eyes. Dean was handed a mic as you wiped your eyes. He talked with such fire and spite that you couldn’t even believe it yourself:

“Alright look here, I came back and I dominated! I don’t give a damn who cares if I’m back! I was paired with this strong, smart and beautiful woman! And you other teams better be ready to get your asses kicked because I’m back baby!”

You clapped as you guys walked to the back. You couldn’t believe it. Dean liked you back. You both walked into a back area and kissed. A welcome back kiss, a thank you kiss, a victory kiss and an I love you kiss.

“Love you, beautiful.” --------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Don’t be scared! Ask to be on my taglist and such!

#dean ambrose #jon moxley #WWE #WWE Raw #the shield #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfictions #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose x oc #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #wwe oneshot #wwe oneshots #dean ambrose oneshot #dean ambrose oneshots #dean ambrose imagine #dean ambrose imagines #dean ambrose fanfiction #dean ambrose fanfictions

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movietvtechgeeks · 7 years

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Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/supernatural-gets-back-family-business-tombstone/

'Supernatural' Gets Back to The Family Business with Tombstone

I’ve been a happy Supernatural fangirl so far in Season 13, and episode 13.06 was also a win in my book. I’m not over the moon like I was last week, but it was a solid episode with great performances once again – both dramatic and funny as hell -- and some great directing by Nina Lopez-Corrado, one of my favorite SPN directors. Also a special shout out to Jay Gruska for the awesome music throughout the episode, both instrumental and song choice. This was one of those episodes that had a specific “feel” to it, with the writing (by Davy Perez), directing, music and set decoration all contributing to make it wonderful. Supernatural has done a Western episode before, so this one didn’t carry the first time thrill of OMG we get to see Sam and Dean in the old west, but it’s been a while, so I was eager to see Dean Winchester put on boots and a cowboy hat once again. And this episode marked a change in tone for the season that was significant– having Castiel back is that ‘one win’ that Dean so badly needed in order to rekindle some spark of hope so he can care again. He told Sam at the end of the last episode that he just needed a win, and he got a big one. Castiel is back, against all odds. That’s wonderful in itself, but maybe that means other things can change for the better as well. Dean has hope again, and a renewed belief that maybe what they do really CAN make a difference – just by knowing that good things can still happen. Miracles, even. I think we’ve all missed Dean’s personality this season since his usual sense of humor and ability to take great delight in even the smallest things has been quashed by his depression, grief, and hopelessness. In this episode, we start to see the Dean Winchester we know and love come back to life, and it feels almost as good as when I see that start to happen with a real person, whether a client or a friend. I’ve missed this side of you, Dean Winchester! The episode starts with a flashlight-lit chase in a graveyard with Dean and some sheriff guy we don’t recognize until he disappears down a hole grabbed by who knows what. Then it’s “48 Hours Earlier, ” and we’re back to where we left off, as Sam and Dean react to the surprise return of Cas. Sam: I don’t know what to say… Dean: I do. Welcome home, pal. You can see how desperate Dean is for that win – he barely hesitates, he needs to believe this is really Cas from the get-go. The relief on his face as he embraces his friend is palpable. Cas gets a Sam hug too, and soon enough they all figure out who probably helped bring Castiel back – Jack. [caption id="attachment_51128" align="aligncenter" width="696"] Caps by @kayb625[/caption] One of my favorite scenes was the Jack and Cas reunion. These two have an odd bond, forged before Jack was even born, but it’s clearly one that’s strong and very real to both of them. Cas and Jack hug – this episode is a veritable hug fest for Supernatural – and you can see how glad Jack is to have Castiel back. Jack: I missed you so much. Awwww. Jack just breaks my heart with his innocence and his absolute determination to make Sam and Dean (and now Cas) proud of him. He shows off his ability to finally move the pencil with his mind, the thing Sam asked him to do earlier. And he finds them a case too! Dean: How did you learn to do that? Jack: (proudly) I learned by watching you and Sam. This season really is My Two Dads. (Now My Three Dads…) Jack’s so proud of himself, so thrilled that he can finally do something FOR the Winchesters. At first, they’re all skeptical about pursuing it, but then Jack mentions that the case is in Dodge City, and you can see the moment it registers with Dean. He tries to hide it, but that little boy smile is already in evidence. Dodge City?? Cowboys!! Cas: (realizing what’s going through Dean’s mind) Wait, really? Cas looks at Sam for confirmation of his skepticism, the two of them both amused by and incredulous at Dean, which was all kinds of adorable. I love when Cas and Sam share an eye-roll over Dean that doesn’t really hide their affection for him one bit. Dean: Two salty hunters, a half-angel kid, a dude just come back from the dead – again… it’s Team Free Will 2.0! Who can say no to Dean when he’s that excited about something? Not Sam and Cas, that’s for sure. Next thing you know, they’re in Dodge City, where the Impala looks just as damn sexy as she does in any other part of the country. Their hotel room is so Western-themed that it looks like an amusement park, much to Dean’s over the top delight. And I mean that in the best way possible. Kudos to Jerry Wanek and company for decking that room out to be amazing. Dean’s smile and excitement, and the way he geeks out over all the photos of gunslingers, knowing every detail about them? It’s fanboy Dean, one of my favorite things in the whole universe. I have missed that smile so much! Jack: (deadpans) He really likes cowboys. Cas: Yes. Yes, he does. Dean: This is awesome! We didn’t get too many scenes between the brothers in this episode, which I always want more of, but there was a nice little conversation between Sam and Dean that carries on that open communication thing that I’m loving this season. Sam: You’re in a good mood, huh? I love that Sam noticed and that he said something too. It’s the theme of this season – feel it, say it! Keep doing this, boys! Sam: You’ve been having a rough go of it. It’s good to see you smile. Awwww. Sam’s consideration for his struggling brother has been so heartwarming this season. Have I mentioned I really love you, Sam Winchester? And I agree wholeheartedly. Meanwhile, Nina Lopez Corrado directs the hell out of a very scary scene during which a hapless red shirted deputy gets killed by what turns out to be a grave robbing ghoul. Nicely done, Nina! Cas and Jack stay up late and have a heart to heart while the Winchesters turn in. Jack: You can have the couch, I don’t sleep much. Cas: (deadpans) I don’t sleep at all. I love these two together, gotta say. They are both a little bit awkward, which it turns out is twice as hilarious when they’re talking to each other. And yet they’re both very earnest, so it tugs at my heartstrings at the same time. Cas apologizes to Jack for not being there for him, but Jack isn’t holding it against him. He also tries to encourage Jack to keep trying, saying that his mother believed that he was good, that he’d do good in the world. Cas: I know that she was right. That WE were right. Kelly would be proud of you. It’s a sweet moment, and Misha Collins plays it with just the right amount of emotion. This is a side of Castiel we haven’t seen that much of, when he’s open and expressive, and we get a glimpse of who he really is and how he feels. Also in keeping with this being the season of Tell-Me-How-You-Feel. And I like it! The moment is interrupted by Jack figuring out the next step of the case. He jumps up to wake Sam and Dean. Cas runs after him trying to warn Jack with ‘hey I wouldn’t do that….’ But Jack already has a hand on Dean, who predictably jumps up from a sound sleep with a gun already aimed at Jack’s head. Ummm… is it hot in here?? Competency kink plus two Winchesters in single layer tee shirts??? Yeah, it’s definitely hot in here. Dean: (grumbling sleepily) Who’s makin’ me coffee? Cas to Jack: I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear. That was fodder for all sorts of internet jokes, but it was also just delivered in a very funny way. Despite this being an emotional episode, everyone brought their A game for those little comedic moments, and they all hit just right. Dean indeed refuses to speak or get up and do anything until he’s had his coffee, which he conveys to Cas with just a hand signal. Also hilarious. And Dean is still wearing only a tight tee shirt. So yeah, it’s still hot in here. We’ve also gotten some interesting tidbits of character development this season, sometimes in small moments like this one. Dean’s grumpiness in the morning and his love of coffee are common in fanfiction, for example, so it’s nice to have those traits confirmed in canon. Sam and Jack head out to investigate the grave robberies, and Dean and Castiel head out to investigate the murder. Dean insists they need to “blend in,” which means we get the long-anticipated scene of both Dean and Cas in cowboy hats. Dean has to adjust Castiel’s hat and give him some instruction in how to behave first because Dean is an authority on all things cowboy, which is adorable. Dean: Act like you’re from Tombstone. Cas: The town? Dean: The movie! I made you watch it. Cas: (longsuffering) I’m your Huckleberry. Dean: It’s good to have you back, Cas. Satisfied, Dean gets out of the car. Thank you, Nina, for the slow-mo montage that lovingly pans up Dean Winchester in all his Western decked out glory as he does, from those gorgeous boots to those long bowlegs to the white shirt and bolo and scruff and hat. Mm mm mm. Dean and Cas “saunter” up the road, Impala gleaming behind them, “Space Cowboy” playing as they walk. It was pretty epic. I enjoyed Dean and Cas getting to play cowboys, and their scene together was cherished by anyone who happens to ship that ship. I’m all for everyone enjoying whatever it is they enjoy about the show, though articles that try to get hits by setting it up as a zero-sum game (it’s either Dean and Cas or it’s Dean and Sam) just create dissension and tear the fandom apart. So boo for that. Anyway, I enjoyed their cowboy dress up (though I admit I would have loved to see Sam decked out too!) The sergeant, however, is not all that impressed – which is HILARIOUS. All the kudos to guest actor Eric Schweig who made the best faces every time Dean or Cas said something questionable. Cas: I’m… my name is Val Kilmer. I burst into laughter. Dean just closes his eyes in defeat. Sarge mistakes them for Texas Rangers, which makes Dean gleeful. He tells them the murdered man was his nephew, who he’s known since the boy was a day old, and now there’s some emotional resonance at the same time as Sarge’s skeptical “mm hmm” keeps making me giggle. Kudos to all the actors and to Nina for making sure every single humorous moment landed perfectly. Meanwhile, Sam and Jack surprise the town undertaker, a young woman named Athena. More great music is playing on her headphones – about Zombies no less. Just as Sarge was skeptical about Cas, Athena is skeptical about FBI agent Jack. Athena: He’s an FBI agent? Did his parents sign a permission slip? Sam: He’s a trainee… Kudos to guest actress Sarah Troyer for bringing real personality to Athena even in a small role – I think we were all rooting for her (both to survive and to dump that crappy boyfriend…) Sam eventually digs up a gnawed up bone in the graveyard, and now they know it’s a ghoul. When Cas and Dean return, Jack manages to pull up surveillance footage and now they can clearly see the guy driving the truck before the murder. Dean: (delightedly) That’s Dave Mather! Dean once again geeks out over the gunslinger, even if the actual person has been dead for a very long time and this is actually a ghoul wearing his face and adopting a lot of his persona. Jack: (delighted to be helping): That’s Athena’s boyfriend! Dean: Let me get my boots on! We find out that Dave isn’t exactly the nicest guy – he doesn’t respect Athena’s boundaries and seems awfully pushy to me. Oh, and he’s a ghoul. I mean, she doesn’t know it yet, but I feel like he was sending out some pretty clear signals about what kind of boyfriend material he is – as in, ‘run away run away!’ The Impala pulls up to Athena’s house with fabulous Spaghetti Western music playing, where Athena tells them Dave headed to the bank. He’s already pulled off a bank robbery, but is confronted by Sam and Dean with rifles drawn. Somehow, the Winchesters – who we know are crack shots – manage to miss nearly every one. What the hell, Show? Finally, Jack steps up to save the day, using his powers to knock Dave on his ass after Dave shoots him. Tragically, that also makes the poor security guard fly through the air – and right into a concrete pillar. Jack is horrified, looking stricken as the guard lies there bleeding. Jack begs Cas to heal him, but Cas can’t. Sam: He’s dead. Dean chases Dave into the street, nearly gets run over (by a car whose driver must have thought huh that guy’s carrying a big rifle…) and loses him. The Winchesters aren’t exactly the awesome hunters they usually are today, are they? I don’t really like that, Show, just so you know. The three dads discuss what to do while Jack sits stricken in the other room. Finally Dean says that Sam and Cas need to take Jack back to the bunker, for his own safety. Dean goes after the ghoul alone, which always makes me nervous. He meets up with Sarge, also there to take no prisoners. The two understand each other in a way that reminds me of Henrickson and Dean in early seasons – two hardened men, ready to do what needs to be done. Dean and Sarge understand each other. Dean: Where’s your badge? Sarge: Don’t need one. This is family business. And if anyone understands family business? It’s Dean Winchester. We return to the opening scene, and Sarge soon disappears, pulled into the deep hole in the ground in the graveyard. Dean runs up to find only his hat beside the gaping hole. Dean: (looking down) Ah hell. (Jensen Ackles’ Texas twang much in evidence, much to my delight) Dean looks again, shaking his head and talking to himself. Dean: Mm mm, no. I don’t wanna…Okay… And in that split second, he talks himself into doing what he needs to do and throws himself down the hole anyway. We know how much he hates crawling through the very skinny tunnel, dirt all over him. His gun gets stuck, and Jensen Ackles’ comedy genius is showcased a thousand percent. Dean: Perfect! (spits out dirt loudly) Sure, come to Dodge City, have some fun… When he comes to the end of the tunnel, he throws himself out the exit right onto the floor in a heap. By that time, I was laughing out loud. I bet Ackles ad-libbed some of that – can’t wait to ask him at the next con I’m at! The bad guy comes back shortly after Dean discovers a tied up Athena and a beaten up Sarge, and he orders Dean to get his hands up. Dean complies, but slowly, exchanging a wordless plan with Sarge. Dean taunts Dave, but it’s Sarge who fires from behind him, blowing the ghoul’s head right off. Once the dust has cleared, Sarge asks Dean what happened – because he clearly knows that’s the theme of Season 13. Sarge: What actually happened back there? Dean: Dave killed the deputy…and the guard…you killed him. I was never here. Sarge: Fair enough. I kinda love Sarge. Meanwhile, Sam drives back to the bunker, Cas riding shotgun and Jack in the back. Sam and Cas try to convince Jack that it wasn’t his fault, that it was ‘just a mistake,' but Jack isn’t really having it. Back at the bunker, Dean returns. Sam asks him how it went. Dean: Usual. Killed the bad guy. Saved the girl. He makes it sound so simple, but that is such a big deal for Dean right now. This is how Dean defines his purpose in life – this is what he does, as a hunter. Saving people, hunting things. Recently he hasn’t been able to do that, and it drove him into a deep depression. Now he’s got another win, added to the return of Cas. He’s back to doing “the usual” – and it must feel so very very good. Sam: And the guard? Dean: I took care of it. That brings an explosion from Jack, who is feeling terribly guilty. He demands to know if the guard had a family, and Dean doesn’t lie to him. Dean: Yes, he did. Sam again tries to say that it’s okay, that this life is difficult. Jack: DON’T. Sam raises his hands in surrender, and you can see the moment that registers with Jack. Jack: (dismayed) You’re afraid of me. Maybe you’re right…maybe I’m just another monster. This time it’s Dean who responds, and it sorta makes my eyes water. Dean: No. You’re not. I thought you were. I did. But like Sam said, we’ve all done bad. If you’re a monster, we’re all monsters. It’s a good speech, and Dean means it, but Jack is actually the one who’s terrified – terrified that he’ll hurt someone else. Terrified that he’ll hurt Sam and Dean and Castiel. Jack: (despairing) I can’t even do one good thing. I know that if I stay, I’m gonna hurt you, all of you. And I can’t. You’re all I have. Oh, Jack. Where are my tissues? Jack: I have to do. I’m so sorry. He blasts the three of them to the floor, and he’s gone – with the sounds of wings. Castiel: Jack!!! Sam: He’s gone. I knew Jack would be going, but I’m full of trepidation about what that means. Will Asmodeus try to turn him again? Will he succeed, now that Jack is alone and vulnerable? Finally, Dean believes in him, but now Jack doesn’t believe in himself. It really is breaking my heart. On the other hand, the Winchesters are getting back to being the Winchesters, Cas is back, and things seem a bit more hopeful. I’m sure that just means that Show will break my heart a million times over, but for right now, I’ll take it. Fingers crossed for episode 7 War of the Worlds which you can see the trailer for above. Check Out Our 2017 Holiday Gift Guides: [abcf-grid-gallery-custom-links id="50643"]

Movie TV Tech Geeks News

#Eric Schweig #Featured #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Supernatural #Tombstone #TV Recaps

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winterstellium · 7 years

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Season 13 Episode 08; —Watching Notes

[No preview of the ep because I started late because the TV switched to Gotham right away]

[During the ep] ∟England then??

∟So what is this woman going to do?

∟Well okay. She's got some strentgh then.

∟Someone is going to walk in — and they did. —And she's a demon. Makes Sens with the srentgh.

∟He has a Crwoley vibe. English Crowley.

∟I couldn't read what Sam mouthed to Dean.

∟Dean looks so done.

∟Dean is smart too!! Don't discredit him!

∟So he still eats the pie. Go figure.

∟Dabb's tweet comes to mind. Stalker Solomon.

∟90's theme cups.

∟Smash & Grab. Nice.

∟Sam fits that too. —Woah! S4 flashbacks.

∟Shrike uses what?

∟I'm really liking Bart so far.

∟Grab, don't start! You're gonna make me yawn.

∟That asocciate's voice is so smooth.

∟Was that ecorcism the same as it usually is? It seemed different.

∟There's no way they fell for that..

∟"Don't get Dead" Yeah, okay. He'll get right on that.

∟Not creepy at all. —Even with the thunder in the BG.

∟D'aww! This is so cool to see Dean bond with someone.

∟That did nothing— —*SNORTS* —Yellow Fever vibes.

∟RUBY'S KNIFE

∟HEY, DON'T INSULT SAM

∟Why is Grab smiling? He dun did it, didn't he?

∟This is the part where things go off the rails.

∟NO SAM —SHIT

∟DON'T DO IT DEAN

∟Still getting Yellow Fever vibes. I love it! —Boop!

∟Grab's Dead. Great.

∟Good thing that he still had his gun.

∟Poor Sam's got a boo-boo

∟Knew it! Let's see how far this goes.

∟Damn!

∟That works I guess.

∟Ellie Gouldling? Sounded like it.

∟He's gone. Now what?

∟You might not get past the gate...

∟I thought there would be a reference to some past characters we've seen but it seems like I was wrong.

∟Seeing the bones made me think of Crowley and Cas with the whole Purgatory deal back in S6.

∟Cliche turnout with the bones thing.

∟SAM —YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO STOMP IT OUT —YOU'RE FANNING THE FLAMES OTHERWISE

∟Does it seem to anyone else that their recation time for something important is kinda slow? IE; getting the chest from the safe, and then with grabbing the other half of the spell?

∟I'm getting all the Charlie vibes right now! Anyone else?

∟AMERICANA THEME SONG (But it sounds so different)

[Preview of the next ep] aND OF COURSE THE STATION FLIPPED LIKE PART WAY THROUGH TO THE NASCAR AWARDS [Good thing we're taping it] AND IT DIDN'T TAPE

HADOFJHA;OHF;LAHD;OFHA;OFDHA;

DAMMIT DAD

I’ll have to find the preview online or something.

#My Texts #Supernatural #Season 13 #Season 13 Spoilers #Sam #Dean

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cajunquandary · 7 years

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THE EYES ARE WINDOWS (Michelle’s 2K Follower Challenge)

Pairing/Characters: Eventual Dean x Reader, Sam, mentions of Benny

Word Count: 5400

Warnings: Alcohol use, flashbacks to implied rape and torture, mentions of PTSD, canon level violence, light cursing, mention of Alzheimer’s.

Prompt: “I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep swinging til I got nothing left.”

Summary: Dean Winchester begins to investigate a strange case in a small town in Louisiana, meeting a local hunter. Expecting a simple salt-and-burn or demon, the actual culprit was not what the local hunter could have prepared for.

A/N: This is for Michelle’s 2K Follower Challenge, @luci-in-trenchcoats. If any of the above triggers affect you, PLEASE, please don’t read this. It’s not too angst-y and ends with lots o’ fluffy goodness.

(Not my gif)

Louis and Christine’s was especially packed, even for a Thursday night in the college town. You shouldn’t have been surprised—fraternity guys and coeds loved $2 shots as much as any hunter. You quickly secured one of the two high-top tables left for yourself and your research. Halfway through your double whiskey on the rocks, you hardly noticed the din from chanting students or the scruffy looking man who had slid into the opposite seat. Last week, Alexandria had a mysterious string of deaths that you were sure was the aftermath of voodoo performed by an angry civilian. Pretty run of the mill for Louisiana, and nothing you hadn’t come across before. In fact, I’d be damned if it wasn’t little old Miss Maxine Martin causing trouble for the nursing home again. Alzheimer’s is difficult for anyone, but when those who spent their lives dabbling in voodoo develop it…

“So are you going to sit there and ignore me all night? What’s a pretty little girl like you doing reading that crap anyway?” You nearly jumped out of your skin as the gravelly voice caught your attention, shutting the laptop and stowing the newspapers with it.

“That depends. Are you going to buy me a drink?” You leaned back in your chair, finished the whiskey, and folded your arms. He motioned for another round, then leaned back mirroring your body language.

“You still didn’t answer my question. What’s a girl like you doing reading about voodoo in a place like this?” His lips remained turned up in a smug, flirty fashion, green eyes glinting in the dull light of the bar. Freckles faintly littered his nose and cheeks. You wondered how many were…wait, what was his question? “I see we got off on the wrong foot. Name’s Dean. Winchester.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You leaned forward, thanking the waitress for your fresh drink. After a moment, you recalled why the name sounded so familiar—Dean Winchester, a legend among hunters—and smiled. Having only met a few other hunters in your brief time in the life and being a sucker for their stories, to hear some from a legend was an opportunity that left you giddy.

Several hours and many drinks later, you and Dean had become familiar with the scariest, funniest, and most bizarre hunts you’d been on, and briefly discussed your families.

“So, Y/N, what made you start hunting?” You always hated that question. It was a long and painful story, best left untold to other hunters. There was a reason you hunted alone. Well, not completely alone.

“Hey Y/N, I see ya found a nice beau, but we closed an hour ago, cher. Do you need me to walk ya home?” Everette, the bartender and a friend of yours, gratefully interrupted, while giving Dean the classic ‘stink eye.’

“No, thank you, Ev’, we were just leaving. I’ll see you tomorrow night,” you smiled and slid not-so-gracefully from your seat. After a quick hug and polite nod toward Dean, he walked away to finish closing up.

“Mind if I walk you home?” Dean asked, taking your arm in his.

“Not at all.”

The walk was not too far to your simple little apartment, and you discovered along the way that Dean was in town for a string of recent suicides that had been kept from the news. Apparently they were all young men in their twenties and thirties. Some had grown up here, like you, and others were just passing through, but all walked themselves miles to the outskirts of town to an old farm house that had been abandoned twenty some odd years ago. He had already spoken to the former owners who said nothing weird ever happened while they were there, and only left because they couldn’t afford the mortgage anymore. Since then, the home and land had been in the bank’s possession and had never been resold. “What’s been weird is that none of the locals want to talk about the house. There’s more to this, but I can’t find it.”

“Where exactly is this house, Dean,” afraid you already knew the answer. You wiggled your apartment’s key into the lock until the door was freed. Normally this took a few minutes of wrestling and bargaining with the door, but you were thankful that this time it gave easily. Your spine was crawling and every hair on your body was standing on end in anticipation of his answer.

“Cute place.” Dean looked around and found the bathroom, unaware of your shaking hands closing and double locking the door. “Mind if I..?” he pointed towards the bathroom. You nodded, and he slipped away. Not but a moment later, Dean burst out of the bathroom and tripped on the mat. “Did you—uh—do you know you have a pluming problem? The sink just shot water out of the side at me while—um—never mind. Not important.” Dean’s eyes cast downward, his face flushed and sporting a sheepish grin.

Laughing and allowing some of the tension to leave your shoulders, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and pick up the silver pocket knife you’d accidentally left behind, placing it protectively in your pocket. Dean laughed as well, and flopped into your armchair.

Picking up where he left off, Dean replied, “The house is on Magnolia Way, right off of the highway, close to campus.”

Silence flooded the room, like molasses suspending everything in place. Dean tried to read your face, but you didn’t notice, staring out the window and into another life, a painful memory. The icemaker in the fridge released all of its contents onto the kitchen floor before you could get pulled too far away and you jumped up to clean it, Dean helping to gather the stray cubes. You pushed the memory away and focused on the mess at hand.

“The last one!” Dean said excitedly as he pulled a half melted cube from beneath the counter, popping to his feet quickly. Too quickly he realized, hitting his head on the corner of an open cupboard.

Knowing very well that neither of you opened it, you closed it quickly and turned him around. Grinning, you offered, “Want some ice for that?” He wrapped his arms around your waist and twirled, both consumed in a fit of laughs. Oh, how his arms, his scent, his laugh, and the way the corners of his eyes scrunched were intoxicating.

“There’s something you should know,” you pulled away from Dean, grabbing the dishtowel to fidget with. “About me, about this apartment.” He raised his brows in question. “I don’t usually bring strange men home from bars—“ Dean looked mildly offended at being lumped in with such a crowd, but then nodded in understanding and leaned forward, kissing your forehead.

“I get it,” he cut you off. “You need your space, and I need my beauty rest. Meet me at the diner at 6am. You’re buying!” And just like that he had sauntered out your door, leaving the small space feeling empty.

You shrugged, and prepared to shower and sleep. “You can come out now, Armand.” The ghost of the young man appeared next to you, looking rather agitated. “Don’t look at me in that tone of voice! I tried to tell him—“

“He a hunter! You cain’t let’im know I here! He send me to tha gret beyond. Then who watch you back, boo?”

“Well, I wasn’t the one causing a scene. Rest up, I’m gonna need you tomorrow. We caught a case here in town, and I need to wrap it up quick to go take care of the case in Alexandria. I think Miss Maxine is at it again, bless her poor little old heart.”

Armand disappeared again with a disgruntled “Hmph.”

You don’t know what had gotten into you that night. Maybe it was the stress from finals, or the pointed comment from your only girlfriend about you being a recluse, or maybe it was the lukewarm, charged air of the stormy season that made you restless. Whatever it was that had led you here, to the frat party, wearing a sweater and blue jeans (leaving everything to the imagination, unlike some of your fellow party goers,) and standing in a corner of the pulsating room clutching your glass of mystery punch, it was a mistake. Amy invited you, of course, but she had already run off somewhere, maybe doing karaoke, maybe beer pong. Who knew? A strapping freshman new recruit to the fraternity (dignified by his wearing nothing but a trash bag) grinned down at you. He seemed nice enough after chatting for a bit. He was studying microbiology with a minor in business, and wanted to save the world. As a junior with only a few credit away from graduation, you knew that he would no doubt change his studies and views several times before the end. His excitement, however, was infectious, and you followed him to the patio, reminding yourself that you were supposed to be relaxing and having fun. The kid was scrawny, you could take him and a buddy in a fight and win. Thanks for the training, Dad. There was something off about him though, and the other members. Maybe it was their eyes. Most of them had very pretty eyes, ranging from bright blue to amber, but something was off about their eyes. Yeah... That’s it. Their eyes don’t catch the light. No reflections. Hm. Must be the bad lighting.

The kid started to ramble about the stars, and a few partygoers ran past, playing drunk tag. You looked up and marveled the same, then the stars faded and darkness took over.

You fell out of bed, a mess of sheets and pillows on the floor, sweating and shaking. You grasped for the alarm clock behind you. 4:56am. Too late to go back to sleep now, if you even could. You sighed. After turning on the shower to warm up, you turned to gather your clothes for the day—a dark grey flannel and black BDU pants you saved for particularly difficult jobs. One quick rinse and two cups of coffee later, you twisted your hair into a bun, not caring how it looked, grabbed your bag and walked out the door. Halfway down the hall you heard a loud crash. “Crap. Sorry Armand!” You scrambled back through the door and put the pocket knife in your pocket, glad that the crash was only a few pans spilling out of the cabinet to the floor. Sometimes when Armand got really mad he would end up breaking things.

“Woah. Mornin’ sunshine. Just roll out of bed?” Dean had a mouthful of pie. Apple, by the looks of it. His eyes lingered for a moment at your head, surely debating whether or not to mention the mess.

“Yeah,” You have no idea, you thought. “Isn’t it a bit early for pie?”

Dean looked completely offended at this. “Are you kidding?” He said between chewing the mouthful.

You shook your head. The waitress set down pigs’n’blankets, eggs, bacon, and pancakes, followed by another with coffee for you and two orange juices. “Uh, Dean? Did you order all this?”

“Yup. Hm. I’m used to ordering enough for me and Sammy.” He dug into the eggs.

“Where is Sam?”

“He’s off in Alexandria. There’s a little old lady there causing some trouble, and he is helping the staff of the nursing home keep her away from the voodoo crap. Well, when he isn’t being hit on,” He winked. “What can I say, older ladies have a thing for him.”

You almost spat out your coffee laughing. “That’s the case I was about to work when you interrupted my research the other night. I’ve had to go over there a few times. Miss Maxine is always getting herself in trouble. It’s sad, she was an incredible lady back in the day. Scary, but cool. I’m now friends with her daughter. Tell Sam to tell Miss Betty that Y/N says hello, she should give him less fits.”

Dean had amusement in his eyes and a mouthful of pancakes as he texted Sam.

Surprisingly you and Dean had almost cleared your plates completely. The only mishap during breakfast being Dean’s coffee spilling in his lap. Armand could have been worse and had trays of food fall on Dean, so really it wasn’t that bad.

Dean thought that the string of suicides might be ghost or demonic possession, it was an odd one. He had already interviewed the families of the victims and visited the places they were last seen alive the day you met him. In fact, that’s half the reason he had been at Louis and Christine’s. All of the victims had passed through there. You absentmindedly wondered if you had ever seen or met them.

The plan was to take Baby to the house and scope it out for any activity, sulfur, EMF, etc. Simple enough, but you were terrified of what you might find, terrified of the personal demons you would have to face. There was a reason this town didn’t talk about it—the atrocities that occurred there had brought the town to its knees. The town leaders had done everything in their power to keep it out of the papers as to not instill panic. It was only a twenty minute drive, but you didn’t remember falling asleep.

The room was dark with only a few tendrils of light sneaking through the boarded up windows. It was like waking up from a strange dream… but ropes dug into your wrists and ankles, and there was something wrapped around your mouth. Your eyes struggled to focus, and your head ached uncomfortably. You heard a bird outside, the wind. Then the blood curdling scream from beneath the floor boards. It seemed to stretch on, panic rising, threatening to close your throat in fear. You looked for a door, it was closed. Before you could consider getting your binds off and attempting escape through the window, the door flew open, the shuffling and thumping and screaming downstairs fading. There in the doorway was the freshman who spoke about the stars, looking much taller and stronger than he did last night. Was it last night? The light caught his hazel eyes—there was still no reflection. It was as if the light was sucked into them, and nothing escaped. Maybe it wasn’t bad lighting after all. Mama always said the eyes are the windows to the soul. This is my fault—shoulda known. Dammit! The kid pulled you sharply by the binds on your ankles, dragging you down a hall and a flight of stairs, your head, shoulders, and back taking the brunt of it. You were in the basement, if you could tell by the cold, damp, stale air and tiny windows by the ceiling. Your eyes wandered from the windows to the ceiling and stopped, taking in the blood spray. Based on the layers, you and the screamer were not the only victims. You and the kid were surrounded by people in black hooded robes. Seriously? How original. You shouldn’t have rolled your eyes—your ear was met with a swift kick and blinding pain. Your head lolled and you felt blood trickle down your neck as they hoisted you up, suspending you by your wrists from the rafters. Those who were cloaked circled you, chanting with deep, low voices. The kid laughed maniacally, lifting his arms as if this gave him more power, then spent unfathomable time carefully slicing into your skin. This you could take, focus on, and despite the blood loss, you knew you could recover fairly quickly. What happened after the sun set until it rose again, you wouldn’t recover from. You refused to cry out, but cried the same, praying for release, to pass out, for death. No relief came.

“Y/N… Y/N! Hey, you okay?” Baby was parked, Dean was crouched down next to you from the outside, his hand on your shoulder and concern in his eyes.

Unable to move for a moment from the paralyzing sensation that these dreams bring you, your eyes drifted to the house.

“I can take you back to town. C’mon, you don’t need to be out here right now.” Dean moved back towards the driver’s seat.

“N-no I’m good, I swear. Just didn’t sleep well last night. Too much whiskey,” You lied. You grabbed your bag and followed him towards the house. With the front door completely boarded up and wrapped in Police tape, Dean decided to entire through the first floor window. Knocking off the half-rotted boards was easy enough, and you set them to the side as he climbed in, EMF reader in one hand, gun in the other. You set the old board in the grass far enough that if you needed a quick escape you wouldn’t land on them upon exit. Turning and standing, the basement window caught your eye. It was the one with the crack running jagged and crossways through it. How many hours, no, days, had you looked at that crack?

Dean’s voice pulled you from your trance. “No EMF yet, and I don’t smell sulfur. I’m gonna check the basement. You comin’?” He poked his out of the window.

“Right behind you.” You followed him in, clutching the little knife in your pocket tightly, and it warmed in response. You knew you could face this. Dean wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and Armand, even though he was a pain in the butt, was fiercely protective of you, helping you through the last three years of recovery.

You followed Dean carefully down the stairs, keeping an eye out for any movement, ectoplasm, or other indication of what was killing these men, trying not to focus on the familiar notches in the walls. As you closed the distance, you jumped and fell, back hitting the stairs, as Dean’s EMF reader went from zero to sixty in no time flat. You smacked your forehead with your palm, realizing that you should’ve left the knife in the car. The EMF was picking up Armand. But it was too late.

“Woah. Jackpot,” Dean turned and gave you that million dollar smile.

“Hey Dean, I left something in the car, I’ll be right back.” You ran to Baby, Armand appearing.

“Hey, don’tcha leave me out her! What’tif tho boys comen back and findju? Huh? You don needta be out her anyway! Les go home, cher, please.” You knew Armand had been through the same ordeal as you but hadn’t been lucky enough to survive it. After all, this is where the knife came from. In life, it had been his. Armand was a local young farmhand fond of attending the parties at the college, until the night he was taken a few months before you.

“Y/N, whatch out!” Dean yelled, and shot Armand with rock salt.

“No! Dean, NO!” You held up your hands in defense, Armand seriously pissed off and back behind you, hiding from the Winchester. “Armand is my friend. Please, I tried to tell you, let me explain.”

Dean slowly lowered his gun. Was there a tear welling up in one eye? He turned slightly, and it was gone. You had heard about Bobby, so hopefully Dean would understand.

“Y/N… you need to let him go, it doesn’t matter wha—“

“You listen to me, Winchester. Whatever is killing those guys, it’s not Armand. He protects me. In return, I protect him. He and I, we have history with this place. Bad history.”

Dean turned his gaze to the house, and back between you and Armand. The sun’s last rays rested in the trees, leaving the house shrouded in darkness.

“Okay, fine. But you owe me an explanation. Now.” Dean stormed back to Baby.

You couldn’t remember ever being this hungry or tired—no, you couldn’t even remember hunger or a time when your bones didn’t strain and ache. There was only numbness, inside and out. You watched without interest when the kid received his own cloak. You felt nothing when they all scampered about, something about police? You couldn’t quite make it out. You just stared at the crack in the window. You liked the way it caught the rain, when it caught the sun, or the glint of candlelight. You liked that window; it was broken like you.

When the police had come and arrested or shot the cloaked people, you just watched. Suddenly they didn’t seem so big anymore. But it was all distant. You fell in and out of consciousness as you had for… how long? That was the day Everette knew he loved you. He cut you from your bonds, covered you and carried you out. He was there when you woke in the hospital. Shortly after, he retired from the force and opened a bar, named after his parents. Said his twenty years were time enough, and he was too old and tired to be carrying pretty girls out of basements. It was time for the young men to do that.

They had held you for a week, some kind of imitation ritual. From the bodies the police found, the victims were both male and female. Whoever was unlucky he guessed. Many victims couldn’t be ID’d and were cremated, including Armand. Everette had given you Armand’s pocket knife when you were finally ready to go back to your apartment. You had thanked him even though it wasn’t yours. It was six months before Armand showed himself (and nearly killed you in fright), but you grew very close even though you never met him in his mortal life. It was a year before he could move things. Two years after the event, you started hunting monsters with Armand by your side. Monsters weren’t as scary as people. In fact, Armand proved himself a better partner than any mortal human could be, with his invisibility, telekinesis, possession, super strength, and ability to see the supernatural beings shrouded from your view. He even helped you send the crossroads demon those men had sold their souls to for strength and power back to hell.

While you relayed your experience to Dean, you failed to notice the weight lifted from your pocket.

Dean sighed and pursed his lips, a hand running through his hair. “Look… Y/N, I’ve been to hell. From the sounds of it, you’ve had a taste as well. But Bobby… ghosts don’t stay good. They lose themselves over time, some slower than others, but it happens. They go vengeful. Especially those who died violently. You have to destroy the knife. Let him go.”

“But—“

“Do you really want a vengeful spirit on your hands? Because he’s getting there,” Dean started to raise his voice gruffly. “These victims—“ Dean was interrupted by a horrible scream.

You froze. “Armand, what was that?”

You got no answer, and instinctively reached for the knife, finding nothing. “Armand! It’s gone!” You turned to Dean in panic. You both jumped out of Baby, armed now with rock salt, guns, and an iron crowbar. Dean ran down the stairs to the basement with you shortly behind. There was a young man, beating himself into a wall. It looked as if someone had also thrown him down the stairs. Startled, he turned to us, staring right down Dean’s shotgun barrel. There was the tiniest black teardrop rolling down his cheek. Dean shot the man with rock salt in the chest without further hesitation, sending Armand out of him. The man slumped down in the corner and moaned, hurt, but alive. Armand growled, the room shook like an earthquake, dust raining down from the rafters.

“Burn it, NOW!” Dean yelled and swung the crowbar through Armand and dissipating him. The ghost was attacking viciously, throwing a bench, glass jars, wrapping dean with bloodied rope. Dean struggled to get free, but managed to toss you his lighter and keep Armand distracted as you lit a small, extremely hot fire with debris under the stairs. You frisked the victim for it, finding it in his hand. You threw the knife in, crying “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Armand,” over and over, until the room was quiet, and warm, strong arms were around you.

Neither of you spoke on the short drive to drop the victim off at the hospital. His injuries weren’t too bad, considering.

Dean was cut and bruised, had a busted lip and a few rope burns. You didn’t realize you were staring on the way back to your apartment, but you had memorized the angles of his profile, the way his brow furrowed, and all those freckles. It had been so long since you’d let anyone into your life. Especially men. Armand had kept them at bay…

“It’s not your fault you know,” Dean put Baby in park and shifted a concerned gaze to you. “Even Bobby possessed and tried to kill in the end. Armand held out for a long time. He protected you. Those men—all he saw was your captors. I don’t blame him. Or you. You gotta know that. Those hunts you talked about—you both saved lives. That’s worth somethin.”

“Dean,” you said quietly, “I can’t live here anymore. Armand was mine. He’s been by my side for three years. He always ate all the cereal—do ghosts even eat?—but I swear he did, and he always messed up the laundry, or changed the TV channel at the good part. He always had my back on a hunt, kept me safe when I walked at night. I can’t stay here. He’s gone. This town, my home, it’s all foreign now. How did you do it Dean? How did you come back from hell, and purgatory, and keep going? This world? It weighs on you. And after a while…I don’t belong in it.”

Dean muttered a son-of-a-bitch under his breath. “Okay. You got to listen to me. You got to keep fighting. When you want to stop, fight harder. Me? I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep swinging til I got nothing left. You’re gonna do the same. Now you’ve got a choice. Get out of this life while you can. If you don’t you’re gonna die bloody. We all do in the end. What’s it going to be?”

His words gave you strength. The sun started to peak on the horizon, spreading light pinks and yellows at the edge of the trees. You watched it, the sun now blinding your eyes with the first rays. You turned to meet his gaze. He was so beautiful lit up like that. If it weren’t for a little blood here or there, you could surely count those freckles. The green folds of his irises were lined with flecks of gold. Peace slowly rolled over you with the warmth of those rays, reflecting off those beautiful eyes. Mama always said the eyes are the windows to the soul… and his is the most radiant, beautiful soul I’d ever seen.

“I’ll fight too. I’m a hunter. And if I go out bloody, that’s okay,” you said with steely resolve. There was a strength in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the last three years.

“You know, you remind me of someone I used to know. From purgatory.”

“Oh, you mean Benny?” Dean’s jaw dropped. “Close your mouth or you’re gonna catch a fly, Winchester. Benny would swing through town occasionally. He and Everette could talk for hours over nothing, and I loved to listen. He spoke about you the most.” You grinned at the memory. It was no wonder Benny spoke so highly of Dean, or how Dean’s soul radiated warmth and beauty. You understood the intoxication and the draw that every beast in Purgatory had felt towards Dean. “I miss him, haven’t seen him around in a long time.”

Dean cast his eyes downward. “He chose to go back to Purgatory. Didn’t even let me talk him out of it. He went back to save Sam, and chose not to cross the threshold. Kept talking about it’s purity…” He trailed off. “I won’t let you do the same, so don’t even try.”

Dean waited while you packed your duffle bag with clothes, and a few pictures of your family, and other miscellaneous items from your former life in a small box, left the key in the lock of the stubborn door on your way out. Standing in the middle of the hallway, you waited to hear Armand make things crash because you didn’t grab the knife, but smiled sadly and walked away when there was only silence.

Sam met up with you and Dean at the diner for breakfast. He was a lot taller than you expected.

“Uh, you smell like old lady.” Dean turned up his nose and Sam plopped down next to you, disheveled and tired looking.

“And you smell like moldy basement, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

The waitress brought another feast.

“You must be Y/N. It’s nice to meet you and um—Miss Betty says for us to take good care of you or she’ll let Miss Maxine turn me into a faut carot?”

“What, a fake carrot?” Dean asked with a mouthful of—apple pie or pancake? You couldn’t tell anymore.

You laughed, “No, Sam, she threatened to turn you into a large black grasshopper.”

Dean hummed humorously through his mouthful of—okay it’s definitely pie—and nodded, raising his eyebrows jokingly at Sam. Sam huffed and crossed his arms. “She said both of us, Dean.” Sam lifted his eyebrows right back. “Said she would know otherwise.”

The brothers caught up, and you filled in the details for both cases that the brothers couldn’t. Bellies full, you all retired to the motel to catch up on much needed sleep, Dean taking the couch. You didn’t dream this time. It was discussed that you would return to the bunker with them until you got back on your feet. Before you left town, though, there was someone you had to talk to.

Everette was shining glasses at the bar, preparing for the busy weekend night ahead. “Bonjour mes amis!”

“Hey Ev! This is Sam and Dean, Winchester.” He nodded in greeting. He knew who they were, knew the whole time. Dean was more than a legend among hunters and those who knew of the supernatural world around them, like Ev. Dean had a reputation regarding ladies, which is why Ev had given him the nonverbal warning. “Ev, I’m leaving town. There’s nothing left for me here.”

“Well boo, it’s about damn time! C’mere,” He walked around the counter to pull you into tight embrace. “You get on out of this Bayou and make somthing of yourself. And don’tchu worry, I’ll come check up on you.”

You held tightly to him as the finality of your leaving struck in you an odd sense of calm and excitement at the same time. “You better. Take care, Ev.” You traded sad smiles, Everette threw a few hairy eyeballs towards the boys, and before you knew it, you were on the road to Lebanon, Kansas. Sam slept some more in the back seat, obviously exhausted from his case, leaving you and Dean in the front. He reached for your hand, and you smiled.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Me too. I’ll keep fighting, til I got nothing left.”

He unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you closer. Now in the middle, you refastened your belt and leaned on his shoulder, the time spent in your hell washed away by his warmth. He held you close, and didn’t let go. Not when you got to your new home, or during the tour of it, and in the night when the dreams would come back, he was right there to push them away again, and so were you for him.

A/N: Thank you so much if you actually made it all the way through this! Here is a bonus gif (not mine).

#luci-in-trenchcoats #michelle's 2k follower challenge #dean x reader #supernatural #fanfiction #reader x dean

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ambreignsfans · 7 years

Photo

Roman Reigns rolls with the Falcons, wants Romo for the 49ers and doesn’t mind if you boo him (The Undefeated)

The WWE superstar talks crowd reception, beef with John Cena and those dad jeans

Love him or hate him — and some really hate him — Roman Reigns is one of the top performers in the high-flying, death-defying world of WWE. Reigns, whose real name is Leati Joseph Anoa’i, signed with the professional wrestling juggernaut in 2010 and has risen to the top of the card in a very short time.

Since he debuted on television in 2012, Reigns has beaten down some of the industry’s most prominent names in wrestling — Daniel Bryan, Randy Orton, Triple H, John Cena and even his cousin, The Rock. Reigns, 31, is a former U.S. champion, tag team champion, and three-time WWE heavyweight champion. For nearly two years, he was a part of one of the most popular and era-defining stables in wrestling, The Shield. Alongside fellow young superstars Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose, the trio ran roughshod over the entire company, gaining the adoration and respect of millions along the way. He won the 2015 Royal Rumble and has been the headliner for the past two WrestleManias, the company’s largest promotional event each year.

Before signing with WWE, Reigns was a three-year defensive starter on the football team at Georgia Tech, nabbing All-ACC honors in his senior season alongside future Hall of Fame wide receiver Calvin Johnson. He later signed free-agent contracts with the Jacksonville Jaguars and Minnesota Vikings in 2007 before turning his attention to professional wrestling.

What’s helped accelerate his ascent in WWE has been a mixture of a revered family tree, unparalleled athleticism and Hollywood leading-man good looks. The half-Samoan, half-Italian Florida native favors Justice League’s Jason Momoa and is built like an NBA small forward. With the strength to easily lift up 400-pound men like Big Show and the verticality to clear 5-foot-high ring ropes in a single bound. Most of his abilities, though, can be chalked up to genetics: Reigns comes from a respected Samoan wrestling heritage that includes ersatz Japanese sumo wrestler Yokozuna, master-of-the-stinkface Rikishiand box-office magnet Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. While Reigns was one of the hottest commodities the WWE had in the early months of 2014, his popularity has nosedived over the past 2 1/2 years. He’s loathed by hard-core male fans who believe Reigns is being force-fed to the audience by WWE chairman and CEO Vince McMahon and executive vice president Paul “Triple H” Levesque. Crowds have booed Reigns out of almost every arena across the country. That has not stopped Reigns, though, as he’s set to compete for the Universal championship on Sunday at the Royal Rumble pay-per-view in San Antonio, looking to become just the third competitor to ever hold that championship belt.

tweets: @wweromanreigns

Super Bowl pick?

A-T-L. I played at Georgia Tech, so I’ve got to stick with Atlanta.

Favorite team that always disappoints you?

[San Francisco] 49ers. I’m a 49ers fan and a [Los Angeles] Lakers fan, so it’s been a hellacious year. Nothing good so far.

Who do you see as the quarterback next year for San Francisco?

Oh, man. Let’s get [Tony] Romo. Why not? I don’t even know if we can get him.

Favorite throwback TV show?

I was huge on [ABC’s] TGIF: Family Matters, Boy Meets World, all those. Saved by the Bell, that’s up there, too. My [kid is] still watching Saved by the Bell. My kid actually watches Full House still.

She watches it on Netflix?

Yeah, well, they actually have a Fuller House, and D.J., one of the little girls, is the main character now. What’s old is new, I guess, right?

Who’s the most famous person following you on Twitter?

There’s a couple of porn stars that follow. I don’t know if we can use that. I don’t follow anyone. There’s no line of communication from me. [Minutes later.]

Mr. Belding [from Saved by the Bell] is following me. I don’t think he’s the most famous, but he’s the one I have off the top of my head.

Is it better to look perfect and late, or just OK and on time?

I’ll be late. Island time, man. If I have a flaw, it’s not being on time. Sometimes. If it’s very important, and it’s a hard call time, then you’ve got to be there. But if it’s just a standard day, then I’ll probably be an hour and a half late. So, I’m not the most punctual, but I show up looking pretty good, though.

How do you handle all the ladies’ attention?

I ignore it. It’s weird because it came out of nowhere. When I played football, I was a little bit heavier, so I was a ham. With this role, I’ve lost my weight. I’m a married man. I love my wife and I love my [daughter]. That’s the most important thing. It’s flattering to have women who are attracted to you and like what you do, but at the end of the day, it only takes one woman to make your life right.

Who has the best spear in professional wrestling?

Me, no doubt. You can’t ask me that.

Who’s second?

I’d have to say Goldberg.

What type of injuries have you had to perform through?

All kinds of little stuff. That’s one thing in our profession: Nobody’s healthy. Everybody’s nicked up, everybody’s got bruises and little tears. For the past couple of years, my knees have been a little banged up. It’s tough running in that ring, because it bounces. It’s not like running on a nice grass turf or anything. Every once in a while my elbows will swell up. If you ever meet a healthy wrestler, it’s because he’s not wrestling.

What’s with those dad jeans?

Those things were expensive, man. I got them in Las Vegas. I’m not a jean guy; I actually just started wearing them more often now, [and] they’re definitely not those jeans. Those were, like, my first pair of jeans I ever bought that were supposed to be fashionable, and I was like, ‘What the heck? These are supposed to be cool jeans.’ They’re stretchy a little bit and they had all sorts of cool bedazzles and stuff on the butt. I was like, ‘Man, these are going to be a hit.’ Next thing I know, they’re on the internet making fun of it, and I was like, ‘Man, I wasted almost $250 on these things … This sucks.’

You recently got into a war of words with John Cena on Twitter. What are your thoughts on him?

In real life, he’s a nice guy … but it is what it is. He’s an alpha male, I’m an alpha male. We’re both kind of in the same territory, so we’re going to bump heads. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to dominate and hold it down for me and my family. I’ll do whatever it takes to do that, and I’m not going to let anybody — and that includes John Cena — get in my way.

#roman reigns #the undefeated #interview

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