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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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A Drunken Dream

“Cas, why…why do keep comin’ back to me?”

Dean slurs the question out as Cas helps him back to his bedroom at approximately three in the morning, arm slung over his shoulder like a soldier wounded in combat.

Cas had come home about thirty minutes prior to discover him half-conscious at the kitchen table, empty liquor bottles surrounding him like garnish. Apparently, their latest hunt had not gone well: they killed the pagan god they were after, but not before five virgins were killed.

Dean hadn’t taken it well.

“I mean it, Cas,” he repeats, when Cas ignores it the first time. “Why do you keep comin’ back.”

“Shush, Dean,” says Cas, gently but firmly. “You’re drunk.”

“I’ve never been no good for you, Cas,” Dean slurs, sounding emotional. “Never…never no good.”

“That isn’t true. And you just used a double negative.”

“Naw, no, no, you’re bein’…you’re bein’ too nice to me,” Dean insists, holding up an unsteady index finger. “I…I hurt you, Cas, I know I did. I made you leave the bunker when you were all…all human and squishy. Anything could’ve happened to you out there, but did I care?” He shakes his head adopting an exaggerated scowl. “Naaaaawww. Big man Dean Winchester, he doesn’t care what happens to his buddies. They lose they’re angel powers, an’ BAM! He kicks ‘em to the curb.”

Cas swallows, not liking to dwell on the subject. “You’re referring to yourself in the third person,” he states, attempting to divert the subject. “That is also grammatically -”

“And when I was all high on the Mark of Cain, an’ I nearly killed you? I never even tried to apologize for that, not…not proper anyway.” He examines him out of the corner of his pinkened eye, red rims Christmas-y in conjecture with the green. “You…you wanna know why, Cas?”

“Dean, you’re highly inebriated. I’d advise you not to say anything you’ll later -”

“’Cause how do I ever,” he says anyway, free arm waving emphatically. “Make up for somethin’ like that? Huh? Do I just say, ‘sorry, buddy, I nearly…killed ya in cold blood in your own home,’ an’ just leave it at that? What am I s’posed to do, Cas? Huh? What am I s’pose to do, besides pretend it never happened?”

“You’re doing just fine, Dean,” Cas offers, which sounds bizarre in context, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Oh! And when you were crazy,” Dean continues, barking out a drunk, humorless cackle. “Let me tell ya, Cas, the way I treated you? I spent every last day I was in Purgatory regrettin’ that…wishin’…wishin’ I coulda done different. ‘Specially if I wasn’t never gonna see you again.” He pauses, drilling idly at his ear with his pinky finger. “But then I found you, and what was I s’pose to do then, Cas? Huh? What was I s’pose to say?”

“Dean -”

“’Oh, heya, Cas. Just wanna tell ya, I take back what I said about not carin’ that you’re broken an all.’”

“Dean.”

“’Yeah, I’m awful sorry you’re broken, Cas. I’m sorry I broke ya, when you first touched me in Hell, an’ I had to take it out on you because I just couldn’t come to terms with it. That I had to make myself hate you just to come to terms with the fact that the one good…one beautiful thing that happened to me, was broken because -”

“Dean! That is enough,” Cas snaps, willing himself not to hear anymore. “We’re almost at your bedroom. Until then, I’d thank you to remain quiet.”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh,” Dean huffs. “Mister Bossy Pants allova sudden…”

Soon, they round the corner to Dean’s bedroom. With the help of his grace, the door swings open and they lope over to Dean’s bed, where Cas lets him flop back on the memory foam.

He kneels down beside the bed in an serendipitous recreation of the prayer position, stooping to undo the laces of Dean’s combat boots.

“Y’know after the apocalypse,” Dean’s voice slurs out above him. “You…you stayed.” He props himself on his elbows, watching as the skilled, slender fingers undo his shoelaces. “Why’d you do that, Cas? Why’d you stay for me, after all your buddies went home?”

Cas’s brow rumples. “What are you talking about, Dean? There never was an apocalypse.”

“Not for reals, maybe,” Dean concedes. “But in the alternate timeline Mister Dick-With-Wings Zach sent to me, there sure’s hell was. And you…you were still there, Cas: doped up on prescription pills and down a pair of wings, but you were still there.” Dean’s voice is different now, almost quietly perplexed, as though he just can’t figure out why anyone would endure that for his benefit.

Cas says nothing, the delicate fan of his eyelashes prominent over his cheekbones as he occupies himself with pealing off Dean’s second combat boot.

“You…you died for me, Cas,” Dean says incredulously, as if realizing it for the first time. “You died, you died willingly, for me.” He pauses, staring off, comprehensively, into space. “And not just then, but…but so many other times, too. Why’d you do that for me, Cas? Why’d you keep comin’ back to a guy who’d ‘cause you all that much trouble?”

Cas sighs, getting to his feet with a soft oof.

“Dean,” he says quietly, looking down at the drunken figure with soft, sad eyes. “I think, deep in your heart, you already know why.”

Dean stares at him, then he swallows wetly, head shaking lightly from side to side. “No. No, I gotta hear you say it.”

“Dean -” Cas starts to protest, but he’s cut off by the feeling of Dean’s warm, calloused palm grasping his own. It’s a desperate gesture, almost a plea in and of itself.

“Please, Cas,” he whispers. “Just this once, I gotta hear it. I need to hear you say the words.”

Cas looks down at him, at the damp, desperate green eyes looking up at him, silently begging for an answer. Cas wets his lips.

“It’s because I love you,” he whispers.

Dean swallows, blinking wetly. “Say it again.”

Cas’s eyes flutter shut, thumb stroking almost subconsciously over Dean’s. This wasn’t how he wanted his first ‘I love you’ to go, but then, when did the universe ever behave according to plan?

“I love you, Dean.”

It’s still barely audible, but it’s evidently all Dean needs. Next thing Cas knows, he’s being tugged down into an open-mouthed kiss, Dean’s warm, wet lips still somewhat bitter with the residual taste of whisky.

Cas’s first instinct is to melt into the sensation, to cherish Dean’s pliable, human warmth forever and ever, right here and now, but he forces himself to pull away.

“No,” he says firmly, pushing Dean back onto the bed. “No, Dean, you’re drunk. It isn’t right.”

“Please,” Dean whines, still attempting to follow the sensation. “Please, Cas, I…I want this, I swear I do, I’ve waited so long -”

“So have I. But I will wait until you’re sober and able to give me proper consent.”

“Damn it, Cas, m’not a vessel.” Dean sounds frustrated. “And I’m not some sort of chick, either, so you don’t need to -”

“I always need consent,” Cas almost snaps at him. “You are the person I love, Dean, and I’ll respect your boundaries even if you do not.”

Dean looks as though he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it, mouth flopping slightly open and then closed again. He looks almost abashedly off to the side.

Cas can see he’s feeling uncertain, somewhat embarrassed about propositioning Cas so aggressively. He squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“Go to sleep, Dean,” he says gently. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Dean looks at him hopefully. “You will?”

“Of course,” he assures him. It’s only when he strokes his thumb over Dean’s that he realizes they’re still holding hands. “I always watch over you, Dean.”

Dean’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, appearing to think it over. “Will you…will you lay in bed with me?” Cas eyes him dubiously, and Dean’s eyelids flutter. “Please, I just wanna hold you…just wanna feel you. I won’t try anything, I promise.”

Cas considers it, but finds himself cracking under the pleading emerald gaze. He crawls into bed, trench coat and all, allowing his head to rest atop Dean’s rib cage. He finds it comforting, the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat, the steady heave of his lungs.

It only occurs to him that this is happening, really happening, as he feels Dean’s warm, strong arms envelope him, and he realizes that he actually said it: after all this time, he told Dean he loves him.

Of course, he’s said it before, in what he thought would be his last moments after being impaled by the venomous spear, but this time is different: Sam and Mary aren’t here, and there’s no room for ambiguity as to who he’s talking to. He’s told Dean he loves him.

Up till now, he’s been too preoccupied with managing Dean’s drunkeness to realize the full magnitude of what’s just transpired. Now he’s beginning to, and it’s frankly overwhelming.

“You’ll be here when I wake up, right?” Dean inquires, jogging him from his introspective stupor.

“Yes, Dean. Go to sleep,” he murmurs, adding, “I love you,” just to confirm to himself that he actually said it. Finally said it.

“I love you too, Cas. G’night.”

Cas swallows, attempting to pretend his entire sense of reality hasn’t been completely upended. They’ll have a lot to talk about in the morning.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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Devil’s Backbone by The Civil Wars !!!! 😍😍😍❤️

Dean Winchester rides into town when the sun is high and the wind is hot, blowing dust along the main street and bringing with it the sound of hooves on dry-packed earth.

The windows are shuttered, the doors locked—all except that of the saloon, because no one wants to test what happens if you deny a wanted outlaw his drink. The town watches, and waits with bated breath.

Even Castiel.

He’s heard stories about the young man, and the things he’s done. There’s no question that Dean Winchester is an outlaw, but no one dares to cross him or his brother. Too many people have ended up dead that now, the towns all along the Devil’s Backbone know to keep their mouths shut and stay away.

Dean Winchester is dangerous, and Castiel is captivated.

~

He doesn’t stop, that day. Just keeps riding through, calm as could be.

It’s a week later, when Castiel goes out on the border of dusk and night to check on his father’s horses, that he finds him.

Dean Winchester, slumped in the hay shed, sweat on his brow and a bloodied rag wrapped around his shoulder.

He doesn’t move, even as Castiel startles so badly that he stumbles back against the doorframe. Just stays there, head tipped back against the wooden wall, wary gaze fixed on Castiel.

This close, he looks… so young. All full lips and freckles and green eyes, dulled by pain and defeat.

The silence stretches out between them, even as the shadows outside lengthen.

Eventually, Dean grunts.

“Th’ fuck are you gonna do?” he rasps, and his words are bold, but his voice is quiet. “Kill me? Turn me in? Come on, already.”

Castiel doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t know. He’s spent so many hours thinking about Dean Winchester, about the outlaw whose name everyone knows, who is wanted for so many things and by so many people, and now that he’s here…

What does Castiel do?

He stands there for another minute, caught in the indecision of youth and inexperience, then slowly backs out of the hay shed and closes the door behind him.

~

When he returns, it’s close to midnight, and Dean is asleep.

He looks pale in the light of Cas’s lamp, his fingers curled loosely against the dirty cloth still pressed against his wound. Castiel sets the bucket and the bundle of supplies down on the ground by the door, then makes his way to Dean on careful, quiet feet, and reaches out to touch him gently on the good shoulder.

Dean reacts faster than Castiel would have thought possible, and suddenly he’s staring down the barrel of a pistol, the sound of the gun cocking incomparably loud in the silence of the night.

“It’s you,” Dean says after a few long moments. He doesn’t lower the gun. “Finally made your decision?”

Castiel swallows, eyeing the pistol, then points to the bucket of water and the cloth bundle. “I brought you some things. I can… clean that that wound, if you’d like. Otherwise I can go.”

Dean blinks at him, then looks over towards the door, at Castiel’s supplies.

Slowly, he lowers the pistol.

~

Beneath the cloth, Dean’s wound is red and angry. Castiel sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth, and tries to be gentle as he touches the skin. Past a tiny flinch and a quick closing of his eyes, though, Dean doesn’t react.

When Castiel wordlessly hands him a half-bottle of whiskey and his belt, folded in half, then goes in to retrieve the bullet from the meat of his shoulder—that gets a little more reaction, but not by much. Dean Winchester has been hardened by his life on the run, and a fumbling young man whose only experience is stitching up wounded horses isn’t going to fuck him up much more.

After, once Dean’s shoulder is clean and dressed properly, they sit in silence and share the whiskey bottle between them.

They don’t speak, until Castiel gathers up his things once more and goes to leave.

“Thank you,” Dean says quietly, his words almost swallowed up by the night air.

Castiel gives him a quick smile and a “you’re welcome,” and then pulls the door closed after himself.

~

He continues to sneak out to see Dean—to bring him food, and clean water, to change his bandages and check on his wound. It’s looking so much better, and he’s getting stronger and healthier every day.

They still don’t talk much, but Dean has started to smile whenever Castiel arrives, and it feels like something.

~

Castiel can’t resist asking the question, as he checks on Dean’s shoulder while the outlaw cleans his gun—as though he’s making inventory, preparing to leave.

“How did you get into a life like this?”

Dean smile is tight and humourless. His fingers don’t stop moving over his gun, skilled and quick; a habit, an outlet, a distraction. The silence draws out between them, and it’s a little while before he speaks.

“My ma died early, and pa was… well, he went off the rails pretty quickly after that. And someone had to look after Sam ‘n make sure he didn’t starve, so… I did what I had to.”

Castiel pauses. Looks at him.

He’d been captivated by Dean even before, but now… he sees him in a new light.

Dean Winchester might be a good man.

Castiel would love him even if he weren’t.

~

The day arrives far too soon.

Castiel turns up to the hay shed to find Dean standing outside it, his bag packed and hat pulled down low over his eyes. He’s waiting. For Castiel? It would’ve have been so easy for him to just leave, disappear without a trace, but…

But he didn’t.

Castiel’s heart skips in his chest, for so many different reasons.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, as though that isn’t clear, but he’d been foolishly hoping that this day wouldn’t come. That Dean Winchester could continue to be his.

His little secret.

Dean looks up, meets his eyes beneath the brim of his hat. There’s emotion there—emotion that Castiel still can’t quite decipher, no matter how much time he’s spent with Dean while he’s been recovering, no matter how many conversations they’ve had and how long they’ve just sat together, reveling in the silence and the company.

“I have to,” Dean says simply. The corners of his mouth pull down, just slightly, but he still reaches for his bag and swings it up onto his shoulder. He’s all healed. There’s nothing keeping him here.

Castiel’s heart sinks into his stomach. “Am I ever going to see you again?” His voice is quiet, vulnerable.

The thought of never seeing Dean again, of never having this, whatever this is, with him… it aches in a way he’s never experienced before. Dean must see it on his face, because he hesitates, as though he’s at war with himself.

Castiel is expecting to be told, “maybe.”

He’s expecting to be told, “fuck no.”

He’s not expecting Dean to close the distance between them with a single step, pull off his hat with one hand and curl the other into the front of Castiel’s shirt, and kiss him.

“Come with me,” Dean whispers, and Castiel’s heart soars.

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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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The Fucked Up Sleep Habits of Dean Winchester

SEASON 1 - SEASON 3

Dean’s sleep habits are relatively normal, for a hunter, whom he notes at several points during the series are trained to stay up for days, sleeping only for short periods.

SEASON 4

Dean is kept up all night by anxiety brought on by Ghost Sickness (4.06)

Dean sleeps but starts having frequent nightmares about Hell (4.08)

Dean doesn’t sleep much, which Sam points out (4.11)

SEASON 5

Dean drinks more often, seems to do it a lot before bed, implying it helps him sleep (5.16, 5.17)

SEASON 6

Dean has nightmares again

It isn’t clear whether or not Dean is sleeping in the first episode, as we see him with his eyes open after either dreaming about or remembering what Sam made him promise him.

He drinks more, as Lisa notes he “drink[s] a half a fifth a night” and often stays up past Lisa and Ben (6.01, 6.07)

SEASON 7

Dean starts the season by drinking and not sleeping.

He later seems exhausted all the time, still drinking and not sleeping, but when he does sleep, he has nightmares and his sleep is short lived (7.04, 7.05)

Frank even notes how exhausted he looks, asking him, “When was the last time you really slept the night?” (7.11)

SEASON 8

Dean doesn’t sleep much when he first gets out of Purgatory.

Sam asks him, “When was the last time you slept?” and Dean ignores the question (8.01)

Dean is seen staying up late researching while Sam is asleep (8.07)

The way Sam handles Dean in these scenes implies that Dean hasn’t been sleeping much since getting out of Purgatory.

SEASON 9

Dean returns to his habit of drinking excessively and not sleeping following his falling out with Sam (9.13)

The Mark of Cain seems to affect Dean’s sleep habits, as he is rarely seen sleeping once he receives the Mark, and it’s remarked on at least three times by Sam, “You go to bed last night?”, “You catch any shut-eye last night?”, “Why aren’t you sleeping? We got in like two hours ago” (9.13, 9.16, 9.22)

Dean spends his time awake obsessively researching, usually Abaddon

SEASON 10

Once Dean is given the Demon cure, he seems to return to normal for a while.

Once the Mark starts to take hold of him again, Dean is seen having nightmares which keep him awake again (10.09)

The guilt of what he does/could do under the Mark’s control keeps him awake (10.10)

Dean researches through the night again, now mostly on the Mark of Cain

Dean continues to have increasingly violent nightmares (10.17)

Again, Dean drinks before sleeping, possibly as a sleep aid (10.19, 10.23)

SEASON 11

Dean seems to sleep like he used to, though still often aided by alcohol.

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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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Dean Winchester | 7x08 “Time For a Wedding”

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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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Body Language Cheat Sheet for Writers

As described by Selnick’s article:

Author and doctor of clinical psychology Carolyn Kaufman has released a one-page body language cheat sheet of psychological “tells” (PDF link) fiction writers can use to dress their characters.

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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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Turn your handwriting into a font

I discovered this by accident and I thought it was really funny and cute:

1. Download the template from MyScriptFont website

2. Write out the alphabet and numbers in your style, using a black marker (felt pen). This is mine:

3. Scan the template 4. Upload to the MyScriptFont website, name it, set the format and click “send file” 5. Download it to your computer and install

And check out my result!

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trenchcoatmishas · 5 years

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A Somewhat Useful Masterpost for Writers

Websites for Critique:

Authonomy It’s been a while since I used this website in particular, but it’s useful for helpful critique and to get your original works out there. If your book get on the top five list at the end of the month Harper Collins will read it for possible publication.

Teen Ink

Figment

Fiction Press

ReviewFuse

and of course… Tumblr

Other Websites:

Write or Die is great if you want to give yourself a certain amount of time to write a set amount of words.

Tip of my Tongue for when you can’t remember the exact word

Character Traits Form

Online Thesaurus where you just type in a word and you get a cluster of different words

Characters

Top 10 Questions for Creating Believable Characters

How to Create a Fictional Character

Describing Clothing and Appearance

The Difference between Ethnicity and Nationality

Describing a Voice

Characters (part 2)

How to write Funeral Directors I’ve read quite a few fanfics where they just have funeral directors slapping clothes on a body and calling it a day. As a former funeral services major I can tell you that’s not the only thing they do.

How to write Drug Dealers

How to write Gamblers

Interview with a Hitman

Terms for royalty

Naming Characters

Behind the Name

Top Baby Names

Looking for a name that means a certain thing?

7 Rules of Picking Names

Most Common Surnames

Medical/Crime/Legal

Coma: Types, Causes, etc

Tips for writing blood loss

Gunshot Wound Care

Examples of Hospital Forms

Common Legal Questions

The Writer’s Forensics Blog

Brain Injury Legal Guide

Types of Surgical Operations

Types of Mental Health Problems

A Day in the Life of a Mental Hospital Patient

Global Black Market Information Because where else would you find out how much money it takes to get a 16 year old girl to kill someone in Mexico?

Crime Scene Science

Examining Mob Mentality

How Street Gangs Work

Other Helpful Stuff

Poisonous Herbs and Plants

The Psychology of Color

The Meaning behind Rose color

Compare Character Heights - I personally love this site so much.

Types of Swords

Color Symbolism

How a handgun works

Blueprints for Houses

The Six Types of Haunting Activities

The Difference Between lay and lie

10 Words You Need to Stop Misspelling

5 Easy Tips to Improve Your Writing

How to Write a Eulogy

Types of Crying

Career Masterpost

Avoiding LGBTQ Stereotypes

Tips for Writing Ghost Stories

A Spell to See Spirits

Make Graphics out of Quotes

Superstitions and More

The 12 Common Archetypes

Language of Flowers

Military Sign Language

A Visual Dictionary of Tops

Describing Tiaras

What author do you most write like? (I’ve gotten Stephenie Meyer)

12 Realistic Woman Body Shapes

Japanese honorifics

Dress Up Games I personally like to find games that I can make my OCs with.

Azalea’s Dolls

Doll Divine x

Dress Up Games

Shidabeeda Games

Free Writing Software

Google Docs (automatically saves as you write. 100% recommend)

EverNote

OpenOffice (a free version of Microsoft Office)

Articles

25 Steps To Edit the Unmerciful Suck out of Your Story

10 Rules for Writing First Drafts

10 Things Teenage Writers Should Know About Writing

Create a Plot Outline in 8 Easy Steps

Publishing Agencies to Stay Away From

5 Ways to Make Your Novel Helplessly Addictive

Books:

On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King

Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules of Writing

Chicken Soup for the Writer’s Soul

Writing Great Books for Young Adults

Inspirational Quotes: x x

And I couldn’t find the original post for these so (pictures under the cut)