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deadcactuswalking · 6 months

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 09/12/2023 (Christmas Garbage, Taylor Swift)

Content warning: It’s beginning to look a lot like…

Merry Christmas! It’s not like it’s barely December or anything. “Last Christmas” by Wham! is #1, again, and in fact most of the top five is Christmas. Mariah’s at #2, and “Fairytale of New York”, undoubtedly boosted by the tragic passing of the Pogues’ lead singer Shane MacGowan, is at #4. Otherwise, Jack Harlow’s at #3 with “Lovin’ on Me” and Noah Kahan of all people is at #5 with “Stick Season”. Yeah, it’s holiday season, the structure’s out the window, it’s REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

In fact, it’s the holidays, let’s get that stuff out of the way first. Entering the UK Top 75 - which is what I cover - for the first week this year, we have some absolute classics, some of my personal favourites, like “What Christmas Means to Me” by Stevie Wonder at #75, “2000 Miles” by the Pretenders at #70, “Stop the Cavalry” by Jona Lewie at #68 and “Christmas Lights” by Coldplay at #50. These are some of the earliest highest positions these songs have ever had, and I am so thankful for that because these are, in my opinion, the best ones. Oh, and there’s also… the rest, with “Blue Christmas” by Elvis Presley at #73, “White Christmas” by Bing Crosby at #67, “A Holly Jolly Christmas” by Burl Ives at #61, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” by The Jackson 5 at #52 (for some reason, the Official Charts Company credits MJ here separately as well), “Let it Snow, Let it Snow!” by Frank Sinatra at #45 (OCC adds an extra “Let it Snow” here for some reason), “The Christmas Song (A Merry Christmas to You)” by Nat King Cole at #43 and “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” by Darlene Love at #42. In the top 40, we don’t see any returns but it is chock-full of holiday tunes, some of which re-peaked or reached a new peak. Those are Jorja Smith’s cover of “Stay Another Day” at #26 and Sam Ryder’s “You’re Christmas to Me” at #12 of course thanks to Amazon, but this is also the highest “Santa, Can’t You Hear Me” by Kelly Clarkson and Ariana Grande has been at #23, with Ari also hitching a re-peak for “Santa Tell Me” at #11. Michael Bublé’s butchered “Holly Jolly Christmas” is at #21 for the first time and Dean Martin’s “Let it Snow” (this time, correctly said three times) peaks at #17. Like I said last week, this is a strong Christmas year and we may see even more of these for older tracks.

Given we obviously don’t have any non-Christmas gains, let’s take a look at what dropped out this week to make room, or at least the notable ones which, you should know the jist of by now. We bid a temporary farewell to “Selecta” by Chase & Status featuring Stefflon Don, “Won’t Forget You” by Jax Jones, D.O.D and Ina Wroldsen featuring The Blackout Crew, “Now that We Don’t Talk” (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift, “ten” by Fred again.. and Jozzy, “One of Your Girls” by Troye Sivan, “IDGAF” by Drake featuring Yeat, “Me & U” by Tems, “Would You (go to bed with me?)” by Campbell and Alcemist, assisted by a remix with Caity Baser, “Black Friday” by Tom Odell, “Disconnect” by Chase & Status and Becky Hill, “Dance the Night” by Dua Lipa from Barbie, “Teenage Dirtbag” by Wheatus from… the year 2000 and finally, “Pompeii” by Bastille.

That’s a really mixed bag when it comes to quality but I feel like the same actually can’t be said for our debuts, which should be a short little romp but honestly also promise quality out of the gate.

NEW ARRIVALS

#72 - “Everywhere, Everything” - Noah Kahan

Produced by Gabe Simon and Noah Kahan

This is actually a deep cut from Stick Season but of course, it recently got a duet version released so here it is charting, alas in its original version because… that’s OCC for you. How is the original song? Well, Kahan’s been a bit hit or miss for me but this one’s definitely quite Christmassy so it’s a fitting week to debut, especially the opening line of “it’s been a long time” and shaking percussion that is bothersomely in the centre of the mix but still sounds like sleigh bells over the otherwise pretty bare acoustic guitar balladeering, until of course, you get the expected crash into stomp-rock melodrama and, sorry, I just think this formula has been done better, and the chorus here is actually kind of insufferable with the inflections. I suppose the loving-you-until-the-end conceit is cute and well done, but it also doesn’t really fit with the stop-and-start rhythm. I don’t know, it’s really an awkward one, one that I don’t feel makes much of a lasting impact, and adding Gracie Abrams of all people is decidedly not going to help it out at least for me. It’s still alright though, and there is a level of quality here in the songwriting that sometimes you don’t even get on a chart week so I’m not complaining.

#63 - “Jingle Bells” - Meghan Trainor

Produced by a scumbag, a maggot and a cheap lousy…

Listen, even if this wasn’t an Amazon original, I don’t think I’d review this. It’s like cactus repellant. Naturally I went into my batch of song suggestions and this time picked out “Lights” by Charlotte Plank and Hybrid Minds. Plank is a UK singer who hit the top 10 this year with “Dancing is Healing”, and she’s working with yet another drum and bass act, Hybrid Minds being active in liquid funk since around 2012, though they’ve mostly avoided charting. Released in September, I’m honestly kind of surprised this didn’t chart with Plank’s low-register… terribly-mixed vocals, amidst the clashing mix of reggae piano chords, lowly guitars and overwhelming multi-tracking that sadly lessens the impact of that drop into heavy breakbeats a bit… but when it does come in, I mean, it’s a cheat code to drop in some Amen breaks. I could care less about the lyrics here, but it is a shame that outside of that drop, I don’t find much to like, mostly because for a song in this genre, there’s just not much actually there. I think there’s a secretly great atmospheric drum and bass track here, it just needs more layers and less focus on the hyperactive drop. Still a decent song though, and I appreciate the suggestion. I just don’t think this particular one is for me, though I may find songs I like in both catalogues here so I’ll definitely check out more when I get the chance.

#56 - “MY HOUSE” - Beyoncé

Produced by The-Dream and Beyoncé

You can kind of tell that this is a concert film leftover. I’m sure that the film itself is actually brilliant even if self-indulgent because, I mean, it’s Beyoncé and RENAISSANCE is my favourite album of hers by far, but I can’t exactly expect the same budget for vintage sample collage and hard-hitting, dynamic dance tracks for what is essentially a B-side penned solely by Bey and The-Dream. That doesn’t mean it’s not good though because it absolutely is. That smug chuckle that starts the song before the crowd vocal against triumphant horns set this up to be a killer at a live show, so it’s fitting it was for the concert film. Bey also has a violent rasp to her yelling delivery here, not sliding on the beat but instead spitting all over those strings and military drums, and if that’s The-Dream on backing vocals in her verse, God, I’ve never heard him like that. It doesn’t settle for that victory lap though because you know the Queen has to start riffing her way into a completely new song with an even tighter techno groove and wiry, almost neurotic bass synth that just goes crazy, especially with the shifting industrial percussion and Bey holding it down so effortlessly, to the point where it sounds kind of weird when she actually does put in effort, delivering an inspirational spoken word piece that sounds like a sample over another layered harmony vocal that sounds like another sample, but it’s all Bey. It’s actually kind of brilliant in that regard, and I can sigh at her touting her album as anywhere close to “revolutionary”, but If I did, I’d be complaining about pretty much the fabric of the entire album… and that amount of eye-rolling may be better fit for another time because this is a very solid diva house track, even for just a loosie release.

#44 - “Winter Wonderland” (Spotify Singles Holiday) - Laufey

Produced by Laufey and Spencer Stewart

I mean, it’s immediately better than what Amazon churns out because I can actually hear it. Anyway, our story for this one begins all the way back in 1934, when American composers Felix Bernard and Richard Bernhard Smith - yes, both Bernards - wrote this song that’s really just about romance in the Winter, not necessarily Christmas. First recorded by jazz bandleader Richard Himber and his orchestra, it’s been covered a barely countable number of times since, with new arrangements, compositions and added lyrics showing up from time to time. It makes complete sense for Laufey, who mostly dabbles in a vintage kind of jazz-pop, to cover this, and yeah, it sounds good, of course it is. The classy mix is actually less subtle than I’d perhaps want for such an easy-going song but it’s a pretty clean arrangement outside of that, and Laufey, though I feel she struggles to be all that convincing of a performer, has a warm, rich undertone and definitely some little nuances of personality that make this a worthwhile edition to this catalogue of covers. Whilst we’re here, I may as well give a brief history of the song on the UK Singles Chart, as this is the sixth version. Whilst composed in the 1930s, the charts didn’t exist then and it didn’t appear until 1958, with somehow-still-alive Johnny Mathis’ version that, whilst short-lived, did peak at #17, becoming the highest-charting “Winter Wonderland”, though I barely see it floating on streaming these days. It really started picking up in the 90s, as the late Doris Day’s version, originally released in 1964, was doubled with her version of “The Christmas Song” for a 1990 re-release that peaked at #87. Dream pop band Cocteau Twins released an EP called Snow in 1993 that of course charted on the Singles Chart at #58, doubling their version up with a cover of “Frosty the Snowman”. Macy Gray’s 1999 version resurged and peaked at #76 in 2008, and then the several renditions by the late Tony Bennett, both the solo version from 1968 and the Lady Gaga duet from 2014, probably helped him land a chart placement with his version in 2019. It re-charted and peaked at #94 last year and given he sadly passed this year, I imagine we may see a new peak, possibly in the top 75. This little chart history anecdote may be my favourite part of writing this series, so just for funsies, when the versions of “Winter Wonderland” hit their peak, these songs were #1: “It’s Only Make Believe” by Conway Twitty, “Ice Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice (also a pretty cold song), “Babe” by Take That (dethroning Mr. Blobby, may I add), Alexandra Burke’s cover of “Hallelujah”, “Merry Christmas” by Ed Sheeran and Elton John and of course, “Last Christmas”. It just goes to show you the longevity of this composition.

#20 - “You’re Losing Me” (From the Vault) - Taylor Swift

Produced by Jack Antonoff

You know you’re in the dregs of 2023 when several songs on your new entries list have subtitles. Jokes aside, this is one of Taylor Swift’s best songs: about her deteriorating relationship with Joe Alwyn, the track lyrically focuses on what may be the saddest ending to a relationship, that being gradual disconnect, especially when one person doesn’t even notice that something is wrong. The song acts as both a desperate plea to Alwyn to just rip the band-aid and end the relationship as well as a plea to herself to be the brave one and put an end to something that seemed perfect and is now far off the deep end, and not because of volatility or a toxic, abusive relationship, but instead, it just… doesn’t click into place the way it looked like it was going to. It’s a profoundly sad song, especially with the bridge demonstrating all the value and hard work Taylor is putting into this relationship only to see it not crumble, but fade in a tedious loss, and the production exemplifies this excellently, with the stray, pulsing synth bass - a killer detail considering that chorus - and the dynamic mix of airy synths from Jack Antonoff, as well as the production on Taylor’s voice, accentuating the human sighs whilst drowning some of her faded platitudes in Auto-Tune and multi-tracking, as she ends up on the opposite side of the room to her ex-partner. The strings are rushed against the quick yet oddly despondent drums, that feel like card just barely carrying the song on its shoulders. The harmonies and riffs in the second pre-chorus just sound so disconnected and sad; there are a lot of voices but none of them particularly stand out in how detailed yet scarce the song really is, thickening the air with indecision as she sings. The way the strings careen in the start of that bridge is one of my favourite moments in pop music this year, it’s an absolutely brilliant song, probably a perfect one in all honesty, and whilst I know it won’t stick around, it doesn’t mean it’s not a quality song. “My face was grey but you couldn’t admit we were sick” is a devastating line, gives me chills honestly. It took… nearly all year, but the Swifties have won me over big-time with this one. Christmas miracle.

Conclusion

Yeah, I mean Taylor Swift gets Best of the Week for “You’re Losing Me” and pretty handedly, but I should say that Beyoncé doesn’t trail far behind with the Honourable Mention for “MY HOUSE”. As for the worst, it goes to Noah Kahan by default for “Everywhere, Everything” but I really do think the song is okay, teetering on pretty decent, so take it with a grain of salt. We may actually get some competition amidst the festive onslaught with Nicki Minaj and Tate McRae, but part of me doubts they’ll end up too high. As for now, thank you for reading, rest in power to Benjamin Zephaniah, and I’ll see you next week!

#uk singles chart #pop music #song review #christmas #taylor swift #beyoncé #noah kahan #laufey

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allwaysxtired · 6 months

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Haunted: I Hear Your Breathing

Summary: They say time heals anything, but it definitely didn't heal the guilt awakening in Sam Winchester's heart when he faces a young girl who's identical to his dead best friend, killed fourteen years ago.

Character(s): CryBaby, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Adam Milligan, Charlie Bradbury, Castiel, Jack Kline, Melanie Martinez (flashback), William Blair (flashback), Jackie Molina (flashback) and Miles Nasta (flashback).

Pairings: Sam Winchester/William Blair (flashback)

Warning(s): Blood and Injury (non-graphic), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse (mentioned).

“I’m glad you came, Sammy, really.”

“To be honest, me too. It's good to just have fun, you know? I just hope they don't take so long.”

The moon alongside the stars shone bright over both teenagers. It was late, way past midnight, the streets were empty and the only sound heard were the leaves dancing against each other, following the rhythmic breeze.

“So, what do you think about my offer, hm?” Will muttered, nuzzling his face onto Sam's neck. “I want to spend some time with my favorite Sam.”

“Do you have others?” Despite being dark, the reddish tone on his cheeks were still visible. William’s chuckles send slight shrivers to his soft skin.

“Not better than you though,” The brunette sucked a breath in, craving to feel more of Sam’s natural fragrance. “I just wish you went to my apartment, only for tonight.”

“You know I can't, I have-” Sam paused, suppressing a moan when his friend peppered small and slow kisses on his neck. “I have an assignment tomorrow. I shouldn't even be here in the first place.”

“You're no fun,” William pulled himself away to face his friend for a second. “But I understand, being smart is part of your charm. Need to keep that.”

Sam playfully shook his head, before his eyes widened when Will pushed his hands under his shirt.

“Don't worry Sam, you know me, I don't do things in public, well, unless you want to,” He told him, sensing Sam's body tense. “It's not like I would have any problems pinning you down right here and br-”

“We're here!” Melanie's voice warned both boys of her presence. “Look what we got!” She raised her arms holding the pizza boxes while her friend Jackie showed the sodas.

She eyed the spot Will’s hand was placed and a smirk appeared on her face. “You know what Mel, I think we should leave these alone to… you know, we better not interrupt.” Jackie teased.

“God, I hate you so much.”

“Love you two Sammy.” Melanie sat at his side, with the pizza boxes still on her lap. Jackie took a seat next to Will, handling him one of the bottles while she opened hers.

“So, you're planning a tour right now?” Sam asked, taking a slice from pepperoni pizza.

“Yeah,” She replied, swallowing the pieces before continuing. “We’ll probably start around august next year, I'm just finishing some schedule things, you know, boring stuff.”

“Uhum.”

“I mean, I have my setlist done. I was thinking about doing some covers like I used to or do acoustic versions of a few songs until-” A high pitched scream left her lips when someone shook her shoulders from behind, revealing to be her other friend. “Miles! What the fuck!?”

Everyone cackled at Melanie's reaction, while she slapped his arms in fake annoyance. Miles just laughed and sat between her and Jackie, stealing her slice of pizza. “Surprised with my illustrious presence?”

“Not really.” Sam chuckled when the drummer rolled his eyes at his response.

“Hush Sammy-boy, don't you have a boyfriend to make out?”

“Let me finish, damnit!” Melanie exclaimed in fake annoyance, almost choking due to speaking with her mouth full.

“Careful girl, you can't just die before your own concert.” Jackie patted her back.

“Don’t even say something like that, who's gonna pay my bills?” William joked, earning heartfelt laughter from the group.

“Sammy?”

Dean's voice pulled Sam from the bittersweet memory he found himself remembering again.

It felt wrong. For a moment he saw himself back in the past where he could be so carefree and laugh with his friends even for a few minutes, and now he was heading back towards the Bunker with his brother who was worried about his daydreaming state.

“You alright?”

No, he was far from alright. How could he be fine when today marked exactly fourteen years that his best friend had been killed.

Sam realized he was probably taking too long to answer and it definitely rang a bell on his brother's head, however he did what he always did when he was hurting; He nodded, cleaned his throat and said “I'm fine.”

Dean glanced at him for a last time before focusing on the road ahead of them, desiring to get home the fastest he could.

But they weren't coming home with only each other as usual. No, today they were coming home with Cas and Jack, a nephilim, which honestly Sam was surprised considering the fact his brother wanted to shoot a bullet through the kid's head.

Anyway, they could discuss things better in the Bunker. Jack was the first one to walk past the door, followed by Cas, then Dean and Sam. “We're home!” The older Winchester announced, expecting an answer from downstairs.

“Finally.” Charlie replied.

Sam was so focused on his own steps he only noticed a second person in the room, aside from Charlie, when he nearly reached the ground.

“Who’s the kid?” He heard his brother ask and when finally raised his head he was glad his arms were holding the handrail or else his knees would give in completely.

Sitting on Charlie's lap, there was a little girl, who shouldn't be older than five years old; She had bright skin, two-toned hair, one side colored and one side dark brown, in two twin-drill pigtails with pastel pink bows as she wore a purple pleated dress with a silk heart that features "K-12" embroidered onto it around the torso area, and also white puffy sleeves made out of tulle with woven flowers.

She was simply identical to Melanie, especially her little brown eyes that held mysteriousness in them. Sam couldn't stop staring at her, she looked so scared and even startled a little when Dean spoke out.

“Her name is CryBaby.”

Fuck.

No, no this couldn't be.

“I can explain to you guys, just let me get her something to eat, she's really needing it.” Charlie said, still wrapping protective arms around her.

Noticing the woman's gaze on his "son", Cas introduced him already. “Charlie, this is Jack, the nephilim.”

Charlie inclined her head. “I thought we were dealing with a baby nephilim.”

“He is, well, technically, he just physically aged himself faster.”

“Oh,” Now that was unexpected. “Then, nice to meet you Jack.” She freed one of her hands to greet him.

“Nice to meet you too, Charlie.” Jack shook her hand, a bright smile decorating his face.

“I need a break.” Sam mumbled to himself, unfortunately loud enough to Dean's ears. He excused himself and tried to reach his room at a quick pace, ignoring his younger sibling midway.

“Hello to you too Sam,” Adam turned around to watch him go. He entered the room where everyone was reunited. “Her lunch is ready- Oh, you guys are back,” His eyes fixed on Jack. “Is he…?”

“The nephilim? Yes.” Dean answered shortly.

“Hi, I'm Jack!” The youngest offered him an innocent smile that made Adam snort. It was funny to think this kid with the most cute features could be the devil's son.

“Uh… Hi?” Adam awkwardly waved at him.

———

Sam dropped his bag somewhere in his room before he could sit on his bed, running his fingers on his shaggy hair. Dormant emotions were beginning to stir inside him just like unwanted memories.

Memories he spent a whole time keeping himself from remembering. He didn't want to remember how scandalous her laughter sounded, how she smelled like gum or the softness of her skin, which actually is the reason Sam tried his best to take care of his body and long hair.

The burning sensation on his eyes was getting stronger and he struggled to keep his breath steady. That's until he heard voices outside his room, distracting him from his own thoughts.

“Charlie, what the hell? Why did you bring that girl here?” He heard Dean's voice in the hallway. “We're in the middle of dealing with Satan's son and you decided to play babysitter?”

“I wasn't playing babysitter,” Charlie rolled her eyes. “When I went to the store she asked me to help her to get some candy, because guess what? She was hungry and she said her mom,” She peeked from her place to check if CryBaby was listening. “Was “sleeping” because that's what she does when she drinks too much.”

Dean's face fell at the confession, lowering his voice like Charlie so the kid wouldn't listen. “Was she on her own?”

“Yes! I just couldn't let her only have candy on her stomach, Dean!” She whispered. “Also, I need to take her to the infirmary.”

“Why? Is she hurt?”

Charlie crossed her arms. “Unfortunately, her little hands are covered in bandages and it's awful!” Sadness clouded her face. “She said her teacher hit her as a punishment for being late, but who does that? She hit her until she bled!”

“What!?” Sam swung the door open, finally leaving his room.

“Sam-”

“I need to see her” Sam walked past Charlie and Dean, who tried to grab his arms but he was fast enough to dodge.

Entering the kitchen, Sam could feel his heart wrench at seeing CryBaby eating the creamy pasta so fast as if desperate to get her hunger to stop. He wondered if she managed to eat something at school at least.

The little girl looked at him the moment she felt his presence, and for a moment Sam forgot how to breathe. Her eyes were exactly like Melanie's. It was frightening.

“CryBaby,” He heard footsteps behind him. “This is Sam, a friend of mine,” It's Charlie in her usual uplifting tone, giving his shoulders a light squeeze. “I just need to talk real quick to Dean, my other friend, and Sam here will make you company, okay?”

The kid seemed reluctant, he couldn't blame her, but she still nodded. Charlie smiled and left. Sam took slow steps, taking a seat in front of her, hoping his tall frame wouldn't intimidate the girl even more.

He wants to call her Melanie, that's who she used to b- No, that’s not her, Sam. Put this in your head. Her name is CryBaby, a pretty weird name, but that's her name. Not Melanie.

But she reminded him so much of her.

The hair split in two colors, the left side being darker and the other lighter; The cute gap on her front teeth; The little droopy brown eyes.

It would be difficult to disassociate both girls from each other.

“When you finish, can I take a look at your hands?” CryBaby froze and avoided looking at him. “It's to get you new bandages and help them heal better.”

“Can you make it better?”

‘Yes, I can! If you stay with me I'll never let anyone hurt you anymore’, it crossed Sam’s mind but he knew it wasn't true. “I can try.”

CryBaby gave him a weak smile and went back to eating. Sam furrowed his eyebrows looking at her using her injured hand to hold the fork, he wondered if it didn't hurt. “Do you want me to feed you?”

As much as his question sounded weird, the little girl had to agree. She spent the whole day having to use her hand to write and grab things even if it hurt like hell, a few pages on her notebook were stained with blood and the bandages were drenched, gluing to her irritated skin.

She definitely could use a break.

CryBaby then nodded and Sam pulled the plate towards him and took the fork, swirling it in the warm pasta, and leaning it towards her mouth.

She gladly ate it. “Hmmm, so yummy!” Sam's lips curved into a smile, dimples poking out of his cheeks. CryBaby was such an adorable kid.

“I'm glad you like it.”

Charlie and Dean watched the scene from the hallway and while the red haired beamed at the sight, Dean shook his head in disagreement. This was bad, he could tell his brother was getting attached to that kid and getting him to let her go would be tough.

Dean knew it was tough for Sam to face someone who looked exactly like his dead best friend, someone so important to him and he never could really grieve for. A headache was starting to show up.

By the time Sam finished feeding her, his brother and friend were nowhere to be seen. He placed the fork on the plate and got up, motioning to CryBaby follow him. “C'mon, let's go, this way.”

“Wait, I need to wash the plate,” CryBaby walked towards the sink. “Mommy gets mad when I don't wash it, she says I'm lazy and useless.”

“No, no, no, don't worry about it,” He carefully took the plate from her hands and placed it in the sink. “I won't be mad at you, and you're not useless, okay? You're just a kid, you're way too young to be worrying about this.”

Sam brushed off any thoughts pondering what other awful things CryBaby heard from her parents, instead he led her towards the infirmary. There, he said she could sit in one of the white-sheeted beds while he searched for a first-aid kit.

It was a little uneasy how CryBaby was such a quiet kid, not asking any questions regarding the magnitude of the place or anything alike. She just stood there, swinging her feet back and forth with hands on her lap.

“Found it,” He approached, kneeling in front of her just when the sound of footsteps were increasing. He turned around in time to see Castiel walking in. “Cas?”

“Sam,” He greets him, looking at the girl. “Do you need any of my assistance?”

Dean probably asked him to check on me, Sam thought. He glanced at the angel, before considering his offer. “Actually I do, Cas.”

Sam gently took Crybaby's right hand on his. “This may hurt a bit, okay? But I'll be careful.” Sam started to unwrap the bandages and as it got closer to the skin CryBaby winced in pain. After freeing both hands he grimaced at how bad it was; Her tiny hands were full of dark red lines, skin open in vertical and prone to bad infections if not treated correctly. Dried blood was all over her little palms, reaching her wrists.

“Could you do me a favor?” The hunter motioned him to come closer.

“Always.”

“Can you heal her?” He gently grabbed the back of her hands, showing the injured palms to his friend. Castiel studied the harm and then opened his hand in front of hers, bright light surrounding above it as her skin began to glue against each other, healing the tissue and washing the pain away.

CryBaby watched amazed as a tingling sensation ran through her hand and in an instant, her hands went back to normal, skin smooth as ever. “Thank you!” Sam smiled at the child's smile. “How did you do that?”

She grabbed Cas’ hands back and forth to see if there was something in there, as if what the angel had done was a magical trick. However, Cas tensed at the touch, eyebrows furrowing in both worry and confusion.

Crybaby's hands were so soft and small, not even close to half Castiel’s, but what surprised the angel was the magical aura surrounding her that suddenly overwhelmed him.

“Cas,” The Winchester's voice brought his attention. “You alright?”

“Y-Yes, I am,” Castiel nodded, slowly taking his hands away. “Do you require anything else?”

“No, she just needed this. Thanks Cas.”

“You're welcome.”

———

Dean and Charlie were currently talking in his room, after checking on Jack who was with Adam. Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on his door. “Come in.”

The door cracked open and Castiel entered the room, with a clear worry expression.

“Is everything okay? You look worried,” Dean immediately tensed up, adjusting his posture. “What's wrong? It's about Jack?”

“No, Jack is fine and doing good,” Castiel assured him. “It is about this girl,” He looked at the youngest. “Charlie, where did you find her?”

“Uh, I was at the market when she asked for help to get a candy from the vending machine because she was hungry,” Charlie explained. “She said she didn't get breakfast because her mom drank too much and she didn't know how to do it on her own.”

“Damnit,” Dean mumbled under his breath. If there's something that absolutely disgusted him was abusive parents that fucked up innocent children on purpose. “Okay, but why do you wanna know, Cas? What's the big deal?

“The deal Dean is that she may not be an ordinary child,” He said sternly. “I fear she is an Empath.”

“Empath? What the hell is that?”

“Empaths are immortal spirits that reincarnate after the death of their vessels. This means that they'll continue to inhabit multiple vessels until the end of time,” Castiel began explaining. “It was believed all of them were extinct, however it looks like this statement was wrong.”

“Hold on, why are you so sure that this kid is an Empath?”

“After I healed her, she touched my hands and right at this moment I could feel her aura. It's very powerful and specific, the last time I felt this was at the presence of an Empath thousand of years ago, and only can be noticed through physical touch."

“Okay, but you seem worried. Why? Are Empaths like… bad?” Charlie asked.

“I'm worried because Empaths are one of the most powerful beings in existence,” The way Dean and Charlie's jaw dropped would be funny if it wasn't a serious situation. “They can be just as powerful as an Archangel or… a Nephilim.”

Dean let out a loud sigh, rubbing his temples.

“Now that's just fucking great.”

#supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #spn #spn fic #light angst #light hurt/comfort #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #charlie bradbury #adam milligan #jack kline #crybaby #cry baby #melanie martinez #melanie martinez k 12

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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 1 year

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It's Simple: All that You Need is in Your Soul Island Girl

It's Simple: All that You Need is in Your Soul, Island Girl https://ift.tt/jGszOLb by 1f_this_be_madness Dean has (or at least he had) the original idea to go to the beach - him, Sam, and Cas. But it was an offhand thing, a throwaway line. What he DIDN'T expect was for it to be, or become, anything other than a fantasy, for a day. And he definitely didn't expect the inclusion of ... company. Words: 3614, Chapters: 3/15, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Bess Myers, Gertie Fitzgerald, Sam Fitzgerald (Supernatural: The Heroes' Journey), Castiel Fitzgerald (Supernatural: The Heroes' Journey), Crowley (Supernatural), Miracle the Dog (Supernatural), Jody Mills, Donna Hanscum, Kaia Nieves, Claire Novak, Alex Jones (Supernatural), Patience Turner, The Empty | The Shadow (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Garth Fitzgerald IV/Bess Myers, Castiel & Jack Kline & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Donna Hanscum/Jody Mills, Alex Jones & Kaia Nieves & Claire Novak & Patience Turner, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak Additional Tags: Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Islands, Beach House, Snorkels, Late Night Conversations, Fluff and Angst, Dancing, Day At The Beach, Swearing, Die Hard References, Silence, Awkwardness, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene (Supernatural), Awesome Eileen Leahy, Dean Winchester Uses ASL, Jack Kline as God, Family Dynamics, Caring Dean Winchester, Kissing, Holding Hands, Making Out, Making Love, Dean Winchester Has a Fear of Flying, Walks On The Beach, Drinking, Stargazing, References to Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Self-Esteem Issues, Pop Culture, Cooking, Flirty Dean Winchester, Garth Fitzgerald IV Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Garth meets Cas because as far as I know he didn't in canon and that's a crime!, Brotherly Banter, Personal Space What Personal Space, Cuddling & Snuggling, Pre-Relationship, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel Can Hear Longing (Supernatural), Lack of Communication, Hugs, Dean Winchester and his x-rated imagination, Garth's son Sam gets called Samza, Jack Kline is God But Also Still a Child, Dean Winchester Calls Castiel "Sunshine", Post-Canon Fix-It via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/MCujRks April 02, 2023 at 09:23PM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

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thatredheadwriter · 2 years

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Supernatural Preferences: You’re wearing their clothes.

Here’s a new thing I’m trying, and finally pushing through the massive writers block I’ve been going through lately. I am still working on requests and still taking new requests. Let me know if you like these, and I’ll keep doing more.

Preferences are for Sam, Dean, Cas, Jack, Gabriel, and Lucifer.

Warnings include (but are not limited to):

mentions of/allusions to sex

swearing

making out

alcohol

canon level violence

Sam

You sat up in bed and stretched, but you were immediately taken aback by the chill in the room. The bunker got cold sometimes, but you couldn’t ever remember a time that you could nearly see your own breath. You braced yourself for a moment before sliding out from under the warmth of your covers and let your feet hit the cold cement floor.

Sleeping in your underwear and a t-shirt wasn’t feeling like such a good idea now, so you quickly slipped on a pair of jogger style lounge pants and your favorite fuzzy socks before padding out into the hallway in search of one of the guys, hopefully to figure out what the hell was going on.

First you passed Dean’s closed door. Before you could knock, you heard soft snores from inside, and decided to let him be, knowing he and Sam had been hunting non-stop lately. A few doors down was Sam’s room. The door was open, but Sam was nowhere to be found.

Another chill ran down your spine and you regretted not pulling on a sweatshirt or jacket over the t-shirt you’d slept in. You considered going back for one, but one of Sam’s gigantic faded blue flannels hung on the end of his bedpost, and you couldn't help yourself. You were so cold and it looked so warm.

You pulled it on and took just a second to appreciate the softness and warmth on your freezing skin. Turning your head to the side, you caught a whiff of Sam’s deodorant and shampoo. Suddenly you were feeling warm in more ways than one.

But you shook your head and exited Sam’s room, heading towards the main hub of the bunker. While you were definitely appreciating an excuse to steal Sam’s shirt, it was still too damn cold for indoors. You finally reached the kitchen, but there was no sign of Sam or Cas.

Just when you were getting ready to go back for your phone so you could call the elusive sasquatch, you heard banging and cursing coming from the hallway opposite the one you just came from.

Sam was in what you’d later identify as the boiler room, an old toolbox on the ground beside him, fishing inside an old, rusted pipe.

“So I’m guessing you noticed the drop in temperature,” you chuckled, and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

Sam did a double take. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t you standing in the doorway looking absolutely adorable wearing his shirt.

“Uh, yeah…” he stared, obviously distracted. “Is that my shirt?”

You blushed, for the first time since you woke up actually feeling a little warm.

“Yeah,” you answered sheepishly, looking down at your sock-clad feet. “Sorry, I was looking for you and it was freezing and I…I kinda just couldn’t help myself. I can take it off if you want,” you offered quickly.

“Hell no,” Sam smirked, looking you up and down. “If anyone is taking that shirt off of you, it’s going to be me.”

Dean

Dean’s soft snores and your steady breathing were the only sounds in the dark room as you slowly woke. You sat up carefully, not wanting to wake the sleeping hunter and also being very aware of the soreness that lingered from last night’s recreational activities..

You’d been flirting with Dean for weeks, but last night you finally had the bunker to yourselves. You’d decided to busy yourself with setting up your room, but that was abandoned after Dean found you dancing to Warrant’s ‘Cherry Pie’. Hours later you’d fallen asleep in his arms, wondering what exactly you’d gotten yourself into.

Slowly, as not to wake Dean, you stood from the bed and squinted in the dark room until you found Dean’s discarded t-shirt from the night before. You pulled it over your head and adjusted your hair before slipping out into the hallway.

In your own room, you pulled on a clean pair of panties, black like the t-shirt. Knowing Sam was off on a hunt with Eileen somewhere in Florida, you didn’t bother with restrictive pants. For a moment, you considered going back to Dean’s room, back to his warm embrace, but then your stomach growled and you had a better idea.

You hadn’t been hunting with the boys for long, but if you knew one thing about Dean, it was that he loved to eat, especially breakfast food. In the kitchen you set to work, making pancake batter, cutting fruit, and laying bacon into neat lines in the pan on the stove.

You hummed and swayed your hips, ‘Cherry Pie’ still stuck in your head. With a fork, you turned the bacon in the pan and began pouring pancake batter into another pan on the large industrial stovetop.

Suddenly you were stilled as toned, scarred arms wrapped around your middle, accompanied by a pair of lips that attached themselves to the back of your neck. You giggled a bit as Dean’s scruff tickled the skin at the base of your neck.

“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” you grinned as you continued your work over the stove.

Dean harrumphed behind you and released you, making his way over to the coffee station and starting a fresh pot for the two of you.

“You left me,” he grumbled. If his voice weren’t so low and sexy, you’d swear he was whiney.

“I’m sorry,” you finally turned to look at him and had to stifle a laugh. He was in his boxers and Men of Letters robe and his hair was sticking in every direction like he’d stuck his finger in an electric socket. Hickies, bite marks, and scratches littered the exposed skin and you couldn’t help the wash of pride that came over you. “I’m making breakfast though. Pancakes, with bacon. I know you can’t stay mad when there’s bacon involved.”

“M’not mad,” he averted his eyes, and you swore you detected a hint of embarrassment. You could tell he was holding something back, so you just stayed quiet and waited for him to spill it.

“You stole my thing,” he blurted as you flipped the pancakes in front of you.

“I did what?”

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, “You stole my thing. I wanted to make breakfast for you. I’ve actually wanted to make you breakfast for a while now.”

“Dean, I promise, you can make breakfast next time,” you said confidently, but as soon as the words left your mouth, your heart dropped. What if there wasn’t going to be a next time? What if for him, this was just a one-night stand? “I mean-”

Dean cut you off with a growl and you turned to see the same devious look he’d first pinned you with last night. “You’re damn straight I’ll be making breakfast next time. Seems I didn’t do my job last night.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, I know for a fact I didn’t do my job if you can still walk. Now let’s eat some breakfast so I can get back to work.”

You swallowed hard and turned up the heat on the stove, eager to finish breakfast as fast as possible.

Cas

“H-he-hey Cas,” you greeted the former angel through chattering teeth as you pushed past him into his motel room.

You’d just taken down a naiad, a greek water nymph who’d been killing off corrupt EPA agents and business men responsible for polluting the local water supply. It wasn’t that you didn’t sympathize with her, hell, first thing you did when you found out was file several reports and turn in copies of your evidence on the remaining sleazebags to the authorities, but you couldn’t let her kill people. Which is why you were now standing in the middle of Cas’s motel room, soaking wet, in the middle of February.

“(Y/N), you’re drenched,” Cas looked you over with concern as you moved to the bathroom, looking for towels.

“Thanks for the update, Cas. I’m aware,” you huffed sarcastically and began stripping off your jacket and flannel.

Cas swallowed thickly and watched your hands unbuttoning your jeans,“What are you doing?”

“I have to get out of these wet clothes or I’m going to get hypothermia,” you clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering. A new wave of chills ran down your spine as you met Cas’s eyes, but you weren’t sure if it was from his hungry look or the cold wet clothes now falling at your ankles.

“Besides, I’m filthy. I’m thinking a hot shower is going to feel awesome,” you grinned trying to lighten the mood.

“What will you wear? After you-”

“I’m not sure. The bag I had got washed downstream, all my clothes were in it, along with my wallet. I’m lucky I had enough gas to get here and a backup phone to call the guys. They’re the ones who told me you’re staying here.”

You had stripped off your t-shirt, leaving you only in your bra and panties. With Cas, you didn’t think much of it, he’d seen you naked before, albeit as an angel and in more of a clinical/life-or-death situation type thing.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, his voice sounding strained as he turned to leave.

You emerged from the shower almost an hour later, too addicted to the feeling of the hot water to get out, but you needed to. The motel soap wasn’t anything fantastic, but you smelled better than the dirty, polluted lake you’d nearly been drowned in.

After drying off, you combed your fingers through your hair the best you could. You were prepared to wrap yourself in the towel and go out into the room, but you were shocked to see a white t-shirt and a pair of red plaid boxer shorts sitting on top of the toilet tank, neither of which was there when you’d gone in.

They were both big on you, but more importantly they were clean and dry. You slipped out into the room to see Cas sitting on the edge of the bed shirtless in gray sweatpants, watching the TV. When you got closer you realized he was watching Looney Tunes, and your giggle alerted him to your presence.

He turned to face you, eyes filled with kind concern. “(Y/N), are you feeling better?”

“I’m much better, Cas,” you smiled softly at him before sitting down on the bed next to him. “Who’s clothes are these, by the way?”

“Mine,” he said simply, as if that answered everything. When your puzzled look didn’t change, he sighed. “Since becoming human, I’ve had to make some adjustments. I now require sleep, which is easier in softer, looser fabrics than my suit. My clothes also require regular cleaning, and I found that most laundromats prefer you wear clothes while washing your other clothes.”

You giggled at the thought of Cas sitting in a laundromat, naked.

“Ok, I understand. Thanks for the loan.”

“This motel offers take-away laundry service. I was going to send your clothes to be cleaned in the morning.”

“Wow, fancy. And to think I was just going to wash them in the bathtub,” you grinned before settling into comfortable silence next to him.

The two of you watched cartoons for a while, but you couldn’t help the occasional shiver from the lingering cold still nestled in your core. When you yawned, Cas broke the silence.

“I will sleep on the couch tonight,” he said matter-of-factly and walked over to the closet to retrieve the extra blanket and pillow.

“Why?” you scoffed, earning a heart-melting confused puppy look.

“Well, there is only one bed. You’ve been through a trauma and I am a gentleman so I thought-”

“Cas, you can sleep on the couch if you want to, but there’s no rule that says we can’t share a bed. And it’s sure as hell going to be more comfortable than some crusty motel couch.”

You could see the wheels turning as he processed what you were saying. For a moment you wondered if you’d pushed him too far, but he slowly put the bedding away.

You moved to the head of the bed and pulled the sheets back and crawled underneath. Cas copied your actions on the other side and turned off the tv and lamp before settling in, leaving you in complete darkness.

Small shivers wracked your body, and you tried your best to stay still, but Castiel’s gravelly voice broke the dark silence.

“(Y/N), are you shaking?”

“Yeah, sorry Cas,” you whispered shakily, “I’ll try to stop.”

“Is it because you’re cold?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Would it help if we shared body heat? I believe humans call it spooning?”

Your heart sped up at the suggestion and the side of you that insisted on one night stands and prevented you from admitting you like rom-coms was screaming ‘NO!”. But your romantic and practical sides won out. Without saying a word, you rolled over so your back was facing Cas and backed up on the bed until you hit his solid frame.

He carefully wrapped his arms around you, like he was afraid you’d break if he grabbed you too roughly. As you settled into a comfortable position, you pressed your feet against his clothed shins, eliciting a small hiss.

“Your feet are very cold,” he whispered in your ear, but you only hummed in response, feeling warmer and sleepier already. As your breathing slowed, Cas sighed and buried his nose in your hair, content with his lot in life for the first time in a very long time.

Jack

If anyone was going to unleash a supernatural flu virus, it would be a Winchester. Dean opened a box he found in one of the storage rooms and accidentally broke the bottle inside. The next day he came down with nasty flu-like symptoms that neither Cas nor Jack could cure. It wasn’t too severe, not life-threatening anyways. With some research, you found that the vial had contained a version of the flu virus from 1918 that was impervious to methods of supernatural cure.

A couple days later, Dean was worse and Sam was starting to get sick. Cas and Jack seemed to be immune, despite the fact that they couldn’t heal either of them. You weren’t sick yet, and when the boys questioned it, you just chalked it up to being young and still having things like a liver and immune system.

“Here,” you shoved a shot glass full of amber, syrupy liquid towards Dean and began pouring another one for Sam. He picked it up with a sniffle and looked at it warily.

“What is it?” His voice was thick with congestion and his nose was red from sneezing. Despite his usual tough-guy act, you could tell he was miserable.

You shoved the other glass towards Sam, who looked halfway out of it. His eyes were glazed over and he was breathing heavily through his mouth.

“It’s rock n rye, an old family recipe. It’ll help with the cough, congestion, sore throat, and it’ll help you sleep. Take it, then take a turn in a hot shower, and then off to bed, both of you,” you ordered, giving them a hard look. These boys had saved your ass too many times to count, hell they were family, and now it was your turn to pick up the slack.

Both boys downed their shots. Sam gave a grimace and looked at his empty glass in disgust while Dean gave his glass a look of thoughtful consideration. You took back the shot glasses and rinsed them in the sink as the boys went off to follow your instructions.

You filled a pair of water bottles with fresh, cold water and screwed the lids back on tightly before carrying them off to the boys rooms. Dean hardly ever drank water, Sam would more often, but you kept on both of them to stay hydrated, knowing it would make them feel better.

On your way back to the main hub of the bunker, you ran into Cas.

“(Y/N), can I help you with anything?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ as you pushed past him to put the boys' dirty dishes you’d collected from their rooms into the sink. “Just taking care of the sick and elderly.”

You winked at Jack who was sitting at the dining table, tearing into a bowl of his favorite cereal. Cas never understood your obsession with calling the brothers old, but he did find amusement in their irritation with it. You pulled a bowl down from the sink and filled it with the cereal Jack had left on the counter.

“How are they?” Jack asked once he swallowed.

“They’re doing fine. I gave them some of my home remedy and sent them to clean up and go to bed. They should be better in a week or-” you found yourself clearing your throat, coughing as you tried to finish your sentence. Cas and Jack both looked at you with concern.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Jack asked, real concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m totally fine,” you shrugged off their concern and poured milk into the bowl.

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

You were not fine. By bedtime you’d developed a sore throat, but you knew you were really screwed when you woke up at four in the morning freezing to death but covered head to toe in a sheen of sweat.

Groaning, you made your way to the kitchen in search of a glass of water.

“(Y/N), what are you doing up?” Jack stuck his head in from the library.

You gave him a pitiful look before groaning, “I think I’m sick.”

Jack made his way into the kitchen and you closed your eyes as Jack rested the back of his hand on your forehead. You whimpered at the loss of contact when he pulled away.

“You’re burning up,” Jack frowned and looked over your disheveled appearance. “You should get back to bed.”

“I came to get some water.”

“I’ll get you whatever you need, just go back to bed.”

You trudged back to the bedroom and climbed back into your bed, but just couldn’t get comfortable. You were starting to wonder where Jack was, but soon he appeared in your open doorway, holding a tray of assorted items.

He set the tray on your desk and you could see a glass of water, cold and flu medicine, the jar of rock n rye you’d poured from earlier, and a shot glass. He poured out some of the bitter solution and handed you the glass which you downed quickly with a shake of your head. Next he passed you the medicine and water, which you also took immediately.

“Can I get you anything, do anything else?”

“I’m still so fucking freezing,” you groaned, drawing your knees up to your chest, trying to build warmth.

Jack frowned a bit and moved over to your closet.

“Where are your sweatshirts?” he asked after a few seconds of shuffling through the clothes hanging there.

“Two of them are dirty. My other one got ruined with Leviathan goo on that last hunt.”

Without another word, Jack walked out of your room, leaving you on the bed confused. He returned a moment later with something in his hands. He held it out to you and you recognized it as his favorite hoodie.

“Jack, you don’t have to-”

“No, I want to, (Y/N). Please take it.”

You took it from him and slipped it on over your head, and began feeling warmer almost instantly.

“Better?”

“Better,” you offered a small smile, accompanied with a sniffle.

Jack didn’t look at you, and you could tell he wanted to say something. When you finally caught his eye, he sheepishly asked, “Can I stay?”

“Of course…but why?’

“I can’t cure you, but I want to help you feel better. Whatever I can do. I want to watch over you.”

You smiled at the sentiment and scooted over in the bed, wordlessly patting the empty space beside you. You grabbed your TV remote from your nightstand and clicked it on as you settled into Jack’s side.

“You should go to bed,” he commented as he wrapped his arm around you and watched you navigate over to Netflix.

“I will,” you said with a yawn, “But you’ve got to watch a movie made since 1986.”

That earned you a laugh from the young nephilim. You settled on ‘The Addams Family’ and let the remote get lost on the bed before finally relaxing into what would turn out to be your best sick-day ever.

Gabriel

You woke up in a large four-poster bed. For once, your body wasn’t sore, your mouth didn’t taste like stale whiskey, and your head didn’t ache with the memories of your last hunt or too much Jack. The bed was dressed in plush white linens and sat in the middle of a large room.

Doors opened to balconies on either side of you which created a nice cross-breeze, one looking out over a wooded area, the other showed clear cerulean blue ocean that disappeared off into the horizon. Through a doorway, you saw a room that was clearly a bathroom, adorned in blues that matched the water outside and crisp white. There were a pair of double doors directly across from the foot of your bed, but they were closed.

For the first time, you looked down to see your usual clothes had been removed and replaced by a large men’s button down shirt. It was crisp white like the bed linens, and the top three buttons had been left undone. You cautiously stood from the bed, wary of your serene surroundings.

Standing, you were relieved to find you were still wearing underwear. You strode into the adjoining bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your hair was clean and while it wasn’t styled, it wasn’t as messy as it usually was when you woke up. The dark circles under your eyes had mostly vanished as were the few bruises you’d accumulated on recent hunts.

After using the facilities, washing your hands, and splashing some water on your face, you wandered back out to the bedroom. You wondered if you should see what was outside the room, but you hesitated, wanting to enjoy the small slice of paradise just a bit longer.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you made way out to the balcony facing the beach. People were lying on the sand, some in various states of nudity. A few of them splashed in the shallows and the sounds of laughter and music could just barely be heard over the crash of the waves.

“Like what you see?” a sultry voice asked from behind you. You jumped into defensive mode and struck out at the unknown individual.

A large, soft hand encircled your wrist gently, but firmly. You looked up into honey eyes that held an extremely familiar mischievous glint.

“Easy there, sugar. It’s just me,” Gabriel raised his eyebrows at you, waiting to see if you’d try to attack him again.

You sighed and pulled free of him, “Gabriel, what the hell is going on?”

“What’s going on is I saved your ass, back in Albuquerque no less. What the hell were you doing in Albuquerque?”

“Tulpa hunt,” you thought back, remembering what happened before you’d woken up in some beach-front resort. “Some dumbass game developers put the symbol in their new MMORPG. Suddenly people who were dying in the game were dying in real life.”

“And…” Gabriel spun his fingers, prompting you to remember everything that had happened.

You’d tracked down the tulpa, found a way to summon it in its corporeal form and kill it. But of course it got complicated. One of the developers wasn’t such a dumbass after all, he’d invoked the tulpa on purpose, and wanted free press for his games. He sicced the tulpa on you and you were nearly dead. Suddenly there was a white light and everything went blank.

“Wait, so you saved me?”

“Killed the tulpa and the nerd that created him,” Gabriel looked pleased with himself, “I think I’d make a pretty decent hunter.”

“So, what were you doing in Albuquerque?” you questioned, your suspicions arising. You didn’t exactly believe in coincidences.

“You really don’t remember?” Gabriel dropped the smug facade for the first time since you’d met him. “Let me show you,” he reached out two fingers and you allowed him to place them on your temple.

You saw yourself lying on the ground, bloody, the shadowy form of the tulpa standing over you.. The game developer was speaking to his attack dog, but that wasn’t what you heard. Instead you heard your own voice, your thoughts.

“Damn, guess this is it. “

The tulpa turned back to you and lunged.

“Gabriel…” was your last thought as you raised your arms in a feeble attempt to fend off the monster.

Suddenly you were back in the resort, chest heaving as you processed this new information.

“You prayed to me,” Gabriel’s voice was just above a whisper as he spoke.

“And you came,” you looked at him and saw something in his face you hadn’t expected: vulnerability.

His hand moved up to cup your jaw with the lightest of touches, “I couldn’t just let my favorite little human get hurt.”

You reached up and placed your hands on either side of his face, pulling him down so you could press your lips to his. They were just as soft as they looked, and he of course tasted like candy. It started to get more heated, but Gabriel pulled away with a playful smirk.

You frowned, which only made him laugh.

“There’s plenty of time for that, later,” he pecked your swollen lips once more before turning and pushing open the double doors and striding through them. If you wanted more, answers or attention, you’d have to follow. You found him pulling food out of a stainless steel fridge in a gorgeous kitchen.

In the living space, floor to ceiling windows offered more panoramic views of the beach and greenery.

“Where are we exactly?” you asked, taking a seat on a barstool, careful to adjust the shirt you were wearing so not to expose anything too important. “And what the hell is with the outfit?”

Gabriel grinned through a mouthful of pistachios, “We’re in Mallorca, my own personal hideaway. As for the outfit, I don’t exactly have things in your size just lying around.”

You rolled your eyes at his excuse, “Gabe, we both know you can create anything you want. So, really, what’s with the outfit?”

He sighed as he set a large pot in the sink and turned on the water.

“Let’s just say I’ve been imagining how you’d look in my shirt, and just my shirt, since the first time I met you. I saw the opening, and I took it.”

“And what’s with the, uh, Food Network here?” you gestured at the ingredients strewn about on the counter.

“I thought I’d make you a decent meal. Don’t you remember the first time we met?”

You thought back to when Gabriel had pulled you and the Winchesters from the warehouse in Biloxi just before a bomb went off. When you all got your bearings in a field a few miles away, you realized Gabriel’s hand had either accidentally or not so accidentally made its way to your ass. And you had told him…

“You owe me dinner first,” he finished your thought, making you smile.

“Well then, let’s get cooking.”

Lucifer

Lucifer didn’t understand a lot of things about humans, and there were even more things he didn’t understand about you.

For instance you’d recently been obsessed with shopping. Not for yourself, no, but for him. Every chance you got you’d drag him off to the local mall of whatever town he’d whisked you off to or surprise him with bags of various and sundry loungewear.

He didn’t say anything about it, not at first anyways, he was always afraid of hurting your feelings. But he hated watching you spend money on things for him, especially when he couldn’t care less about them. One day when he was particularly frustrated, he’d caught a pair of demons tailing you and fought off three different angels in less than 36 hours, he just couldn’t pretend to be excited about the three sweatshirts and two pairs of jogger pants you’d bought him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, voice small and shaky in a way that he hated. He hated it even worse when he was the one who made you sound that way. His anger at the demons, at the angels, at himself, it all boiled over and his hands slammed down on the table in front of him.

“Dammit, (Y/N)!” he stood abruptly and the chair went flying back into the wall behind him. “Stop buying me this stupid, petty shit. I don’t want or need it.”

His eyes glowed red and his chest heaved. Without another word, you dropped the bags and stormed out, slamming your heavy front door behind you.

He didn’t go looking for you, not right away. He’d never been the best at controlling his temper, hell he was the devil after all. But the look in your eyes, he couldn’t get it out of his head.

When he did go looking, he found you at your favorite spot. The local botanical gardens had a Japanese tea garden, you’d told him about it the first time he stayed the night at your place.

He had been on protection detail, helping the Winchesters hunt some low-level monster who had developed a taste for psychics, psychics like you. Instead of being scared of him, like you should have been, you spent the entire night talking his ear off about your favorite music and painters and places. He never would have admitted it, but it was that night that you first had him wrapped around your finger.

“I’m sorry,” he said, waiting for you to turn around and acknowledge him.

“For what, exactly?” you asked him coldly, watching the leaves of a Japanese maple flutter in the wind.

“For everything,” Lucifer sighed, “For yelling at you, for calling your very thoughtful gifts stupid,” he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you back towards him, placing an open-mouthed kiss to the exposed skin of your neck.

“And petty,” you added, not caving to his advances just yet.

“Yes, I called them stupid and petty,” he said between sloppy kisses moving down towards your shoulder, moving the fabric of your cardigan aside.

“And?” you prompted, making him halt his motions.

When he didn’t answer, you pushed his arms apart and walked down the path, needing to get away from him. He of course followed, like you knew he would.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t like them in the first place?” you snapped at him, pulling your cardigan tighter around you as you spun to face him.

“I didn’t ~not~ like them,” he insisted, “I just don’t understand why you insist on buying me things I don’t need, wasting your hard earned money. I was afraid I’d hurt your feelings.”

You scoffed, “Do you want to know why I bought you those things? Most people, when they have a boyfriend, a partner, the partner gets a drawer at their place, or better yet, they move in. But you’re an archangel, Luci. I don’t…we don’t get normal. I just wanted to wake up in the morning and know that you’re still here, still coming back to me at the end of the day. I want to wear your shirts down to breakfast after our nights together.”

As you spoke he closed the distance. When you were finished, he fixed you with a look. It wasn’t a rare look, but it was one only reserved for you.

“All you had to do was ask,” he whispered. His teeth grazed the shell of your ear and you were suddenly whisked back to your bedroom at home.

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

You woke up the next morning to the scent of coffee and bacon wafting up from the kitchen. From the floor, you picked up Lucifer’s discarded henley from the night before and slipped it over your head.

Downstairs, Lucifer pulled a tray of danishes from the oven, singing along to ‘Highway to Hell’ that was pouring out of the retro radio you had sitting on the counter.

“Hey sexy,” you grinned as you realized he was wearing the gray sweatpants you’d bought him a few weeks ago and a black t-shirt with the words ‘Maybe today Satan” printed on it that you just couldn’t resist.

“Hello gorgeous,” he answered without looking at first, but when he turned and saw you there in his shirt, he let out a throaty groan.

“Like what you see?” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“From now on, I think you should only wear my clothes. Gives me an excuse to steal them back.”

thatredheadwriter’s Masterlist

#spn preferences #gabriel x reader #lucifer x reader #jack x reader #sam x reader #dean x reader #castiel x reader #supernatural imagines

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deancaskiss · 3 years

Text

one spark starts a fire

Kiss #17 - Tucking their hands beneath the other person's shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin

For @tootiredmotel‘s 500 followers celebration, prompt: I can’t believe you.

50 types of kisses collection. Also posted on ao3.

“It’s a bunch of contrived Hollywood bullshit. It’s not some magical moment when you kiss someone for the first time,” Dean said, shutting off the cliche romance movie and chucking the remote at Sam’s head.

“That’s because you’ve never felt true love,” Sam teased, laughing when Jack nodded along very solemnly.

“You need to find your true love, Dean. Like Snow White found her true love with the prince and his kiss woke her up,” Jack pointed out.

Sighing in exasperation, Dean shoved at Cas’ leg with his foot. “This is your fault. You’ve got your son watching Disney cliches. Real life ain’t like that. There aren't sparks. The world doesn’t stop spinning when you kiss someone for the first time.”

Cas cocked his head, squinting at Dean for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s true, Dean. First kisses can be special.”

Dean snorted, stealing the almost empty bowl of popcorn from Cas’ lap and eating a few pieces before flicking one at Jack just to hear the kid laugh. “You don’t have any room to talk. You’ve kissed two people- one was Meg and the other was a Reaper who tried to kill you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Cas stole the bowl back and hurled a piece of popcorn at Dean. “And yet I still believe in the spark of a first kiss. Stop being so cynical, Dean.”

“I’m not being-” Dean started, then cut himself off as an idea sprung to mind. To be fair, it wasn’t the most brilliant idea he’d ever come up with, but it would make his point. Just gotta ignore Sam and the inevitable teasing this was going to cause. “Alright, here. Do you trust me?” Dean asked, nudging at Cas’ thigh again.

Cas furrowed his brows, thrown off kilter by Dean’s question. “Yes, you know I do. What does that have to do with anything?”

Alright, time to bite the bullet. This was just to prove Cas wrong. It didn’t mean anything. “Just, trust me on this, alright? I’m going to kiss you, just to prove there isn’t some magic spark associated with a first kiss.”

“Oh, now this I’ve gotta see,” Sam said, words infused with laughter as the sound of shuffling reached Dean’s ears.

But Dean wasn’t looking Sam’s way. Didn’t even spare him a glance as he muttered, “Shut up, bitch,” at his brother, because this wasn’t about Sam.

This was about Cas. And Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cas. Cas, who was now licking his lower lip and giving Dean a look that the hunter couldn’t decipher. Cas, who was already leaning in a little closer, his eyes lingering on Dean’s mouth in a way that had shivers dancing up Dean’s spine.

“I trust you,” Cas said, low and breathy, and Goddamn, this was definitely a no-good, very bad, awful decision, but Dean couldn’t stop himself from closing the gap.

They both leaned in together, bumping noses slightly, and Dean caught the edge of Cas’ mouth in a chaste brush. Idiot. ‘Way to mess up the kiss, Winchester.’

Realigning, Dean angled his head slightly and captured Cas’ lips against his own.

Doesn’t mean anything. Definitely doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t mean-

Oh God.

Cas’ lips pressed softly against his own, feather light and gentle as they kissed. It was tender and slow, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. And then they were grasping for each other, pulling each other closer as Dean’s hands found their way to Cas’ tie and Cas’ arms wrapped around Dean’s neck.

Dean wasn’t sure which one of them deepened the kiss, but God, he didn’t care. Cas’ lips were moving against his own, pulling back slightly before diving back in to kiss Dean again; more insistently and desperately.

Their tongues brushed against each other at the same time, and Dean felt his blood light on fire at the touch. A noise slipped into the space between them, and maybe it was Dean who had gasped or maybe it was Cas, but all Dean wanted was more, more, more.

Pulling Cas in by the tie, Dean nipped at the angel’s lower lip and soothed over it with his tongue before gliding their lips together again. Cas hummed in pleasure, fingers tugging at Dean’s hair as they continued to kiss; faster and then slower, feather light and then all at once.

Shifting his hands from Cas’ tie to his lower back, Dean tugged up the edge of Cas’ shirt and slipped his hands up along his spine. Suddenly, Cas broke the kiss with a sharp noise of surprise.

“I can’t believe you. Your hands are freezing,” Cas muttered in shock, nose bumping against Dean’s again in the infinitesimal space between them.

“Here, let me just-” Dean started to say, attempting to pull his hands away, but Cas moved quicker, holding Dean’s wrists exactly where they were.

They lingered for half a second, Dean spreading his palm along the bare skin of Cas’ back, feeling the warmth radiating up into his fingertips.

“Shut up and kiss me, Dean,” Cas murmured, but before Dean could even process the words, Cas was chasing his mouth into another kiss.

This time the kiss was frantic; desperate and hungry as Cas kissed Dean as if the room had no air and Dean was the only source of oxygen. Dean felt dizzy with desire, lungs burning and room spinning as Cas kissed him and kissed him and didn’t stop kissing him.

It was so so good, God, Dean had never been kissed like this in his entire life.

Licking his way into Cas’ mouth, Cas gasped as Dean deepened the kiss; memorizing the way Cas tasted and how the angel shivered as their tongues wrapped around each other.

And that was when the sparks flew; loud popping echoed in the air as the lights in the bunker burst all at once; sending a shower of sparks down around them.

Dean pulled back, blinking hazily in the glow as the bunker’s emergency lights flickered on. “Did you… did you just-” he stuttered out, glancing up at the blown light bulbs in awe.

“Sparks,” Cas whispered, and the way his voice came out like a prayer, Dean swore his heart was going to leap out of his chest.

It was exactly like the first night they met, lights exploding and sparks flying, and God, how had Dean not seen it before? Cas had already given him that magic; had already proven that he was Dean’s true love.

“I knew it! First kisses are a magical moment!” Jack cheered, startling both Dean and Cas.

Shit. When had Sam and Jack shown up? Were they always there? Dean couldn’t remember. Sam had this knowing smirk on his face as he looked between Dean and Cas, and yeah, alright, maybe Dean had lost his round. But also, he’d kinda won, too.

“I heard second kisses are just as magical as first kisses,” Dean said, tapping his fingers softly against Cas’ spine.

“Prove it,” Cas said, teasing and giddy all at once.

Dean was happy to do just that, kissing Cas over and over again until they were both breathless and dizzy from the sparks.

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

Text

Sunday-Funday: Destiel Baby!Jack ficlet

Happy Mother's Day everyone!!!💕

Dean was expecting to have a nice, normal Sunday. Hopefully sleep in a bit, make some pancakes-hm or maybe some kickass waffles, and later run to the hardware store so he can get some work done on the new bookshelves he's making Cas. What he wasn't expecting was to be awoken by the clang of pots and pans hitting the kitchen floor, at six thirty am.

And so Dean was out of the bed in a flash, weapon in hand creeping towards the bedroom door. As he reached for the handle he heard the sound of laughter, and hurried shushing drift down the hall. Shoulders drooping, weapon resting at his side.

Cas and Jack.

Dean released the breath he was holding with a laugh as he tucked the knife back into his nightstand drawer. He glanced over at the clock on the wall.

Six thirty-five a.m.

What the hell where they doing up?

(read the rest under the cut)

Slowly, he padded towards the door pulling it open an inch more.

"Jack we have to be extra quiet, so we don't wake up Daddy" he heard Cas warn slightly muffled through the door.

"Why?" Jack all but shouted, completely ignoring Cas' words. Dean chuckled fondly to himself.

"Baby, we're going to surprise him, remember? And if he wakes up before we finish then the there's no surprise, right?" Cas answered quietly, amusement dancing in his voice.

"Oh yeah! Shhhh" Jack whisper-shouted, earning another soft laugh from Dean.

And without the imminent threat of six am monsters or burglars breaking into his kitchen, he shuffled back to bed flopping face-first onto his pillow.

Dean tried to fall back asleep, but his brain had other ideas. So with a sigh he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

A surprise? What where they even surprising him for? It's not like anything extraordinary has happened lately-and it's definitely not his birthday.

Besides, Dean is always the one who cooks breakfast, considering Cas is pretty much dead to the world until he gets at least three cups of coffee in him.

Not that Dean's not grateful for whatever they're planning, but it is six am on a Sunday and he was planning to sleep in a bit.

Especially after the night he and Cas had yes-

But that thought was cut short by the sound of footsteps carrying down the hallway.

Quickly, Dean threw the comforter back over his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

Hey kid wanted to surprise him, who was he to deny him that joy?

Under the blanket a smile spread across his lips as he listened to the door creak open. There was some muffled whispers, followed by a moment of silence.

And then

"Jack don't ju-"

And Dean would never know if Cas finished that warning or not because suddenly there was a three year old flinging himself onto Dean's back.

"DEEEEEE!"

So Dean shot up with an exaggerated "roar", squeezing Jack against his chest, which turned him into a laughing mess. He pressed a kiss to his hair, and glanced up at Cas who was smiling softly, a tray in his hands.

"Dee are you awake?"

"Yeah buddy, I think I'm awake now" Dean laughed, throwing a wink at Cas.

"Good!"

"Bug aren't you forgetting something?" Cas reminded with a purposeful look.

"Oh!" And with that Jack leapt off the bed, running back into the kitchen. The two shared a laugh as Cas placed the tray on the nightstand, moving to sit on his side of the bed.

"Good morning" Cas smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to his husband's lips.

"Oh happy six am to you too, early bird" Dean teased with no real heat behind it. This only earned an eye roll from Cas.

"Sorry, we probably woke you up earlier, I dropped a pan. And Jack ripped me out of bed at five am because he was too excited to wait until the sun came up apparently" Cas sighed begrudgingly causing Dean to pull his husband into his chest with a laugh. Cas was a lot of things, but a morning person, he was not.

"Alright Sunshine, you'll get more coffee soon. And not that I don't love whatever this is, but what is this all about, exactly?" Dean questioned, as Cas pulled away to look meet his eyes.

"You'll just have to wait for Jack to explain" Cas shrugged with a wink, tapping Dean on the nose like a little shit. What a dork

And as if on cue, Jack came barreling back into the room, scrambling across the comforter and onto Dean's lap.

"Happy Mother's Day, Dee!" Jack cheered.

In his hands he held out a little purple gift bag with what looked like a pink heart scribbled on the front.

Mother's Day.

It's a Mother's Day present.

For Dean.

Dean froze. Unable to move everything but his eyes, which flicked from the bag, to Jack and finally landing on Cas, who gave him a wide smile.

Dean swallowed thickly, pushing down the emotions threatening to bubble over.

"Don't worry, you still get things for Father's Day too" Jack stage whispered causing them all to burst into laughter, effectively kicking Dean's brain back into gear.

"Thank you, buddy" Dean smiled, hoping it looked normal enough. But he figured he was in the clear because Jack beamed back. So he slowly took the bag from Jack's hand.

"We made Mother's Day stuff at school, and I told Miss.Jones I didn't have a Mommy. But she said that's okay and that I could just give it to my Daddy instead" Jack explained excitedly, urging Dean to open the bag.

So with a slightly shaky hand, Dean reached inside, producing a very glittery card.

Dean felt something rise in his throat as he surveyed the crayon covered paper.

"It's fishing! Look that's you and me!" Jack said, pointing to the drawing of what Dean was assuming to be Jack and him sitting by the water, judging by the pound of blue glitter.

A few weeks ago, Dean brought Jack to a nearby lake to teach him how to fish with the little pole he bought him a while back. They didn't actually catch anything, but Jack didn't seem to mind, as he cared much more about the frog they saw jump into the water. The frog of course, made an appearance on the card too.

Dean carefully unfolded the card, mindful of the glitter of course, and he felt tears prick in his eyes.

Happy Mother's Day, Daddy. Love Jack.

The first part obviously by his teacher, but Jack had written his name by himself in purple crayon. With his signature backwards K, and a messy heart scribbled next to it.

And a warmth blossomed in his chest quickly washing over him.

"I love it Squish, it looks incredible" Dean gushed with a watery smile, and Jack just pushed the bag closer to Dean in response. So he dug his hand back in, pulling out the green tissue paper.

And what he found inside was a little yellow flower in a bright blue pot, clearly painted by Jack himself.

"Da already has lots of flowers outside, so you should get some too! So you get the Mother's Day gift! Oh! And Da helped me make pancakes and bacon too! Are you surprised?" Jack questioned, jumping in his lap.

And with that, Dean let the tears in his eyes fall freely, and pulled Jack close to his chest.

"I'm very surprised! I love it so much, thank you baby" Dean choked out, pressing a kiss to Jack's head. He glanced over at Cas in time to see him snap a picture, noticing the tears in his eyes too.

"Baby, why don't you go grab your milk, and we can all have breakfast in bed?" Cas suggested, causing Jack to bolt from the room again.

With his kid out of sight, Dean let the emotions take over. He dug his palms into his eyes to stop the tears. Cas just silently pulled him into his chest, resting his chin on Dean's head.

Out of all the things the "surprise" could have been, he never would have guessed it was a freaking Mother's Day present.

But now here he is, sobbing over a flower at six am.

And yeah he isn't technically a "Mom" and yeah it's just a little flower and a card. But it's a gift made by his kid, a gift that his kid gave him for Mother's Day. And Dean's never received anything remotely like this in his entire life.

So as far as he's concerned, this is the best present he's ever gotten.

Love like he's never felt before rushes over him. Love for his son. His husband. Their house. Their little life. And this tiny little flower in his lap. And it's too much, it's overwhelming. And it's the greatest Dean's ever felt.

"So I take it you were surprised, then?" Cas teased softly, and all he got in response was a watery laugh.

Once Dean pulled himself together, he turned in Cas' arms to gently kiss his husband.

"I love you, so damn much. And you woke up early and you cooked-thank you for this I just-I don-" Dean pulls away rambling, only stopping when Cas pressed their foreheads together. He always knew what Dean needed.

"On Father's Day, just remember how early I woke up today" Cas whispered against his lips, causing Dean to shove his face away with a laugh.

"Whatever you say, Dad of the year" Dean teased, as Jack raced back into the room, practically launching himself onto the bed.

They spent the rest of the morning in bed, eating Cas' slightly burned pancakes, and surprisingly well cooked bacon.

And yeah maybe Dean didn't have the Sunday he expected. He didn't sleep in, he didn't make the pancakes, and he didn't run to the hardware store or work on the shelves.

But he did watch cartoons on the couch with his kid, and he did soak up the spring sun as they all played in Jack's sandbox. He did help Cas in the garden, and he did make burgers for dinner, which they all ate out on the back deck.

So as far as Dean's concerned, it was the best, unexpected Sunda-Mother's Day, ever.

tag list:

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed💛

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @icefire149 @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

@multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @becky-srs oaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @angelic-bee-enthusiast @nguyenxtrang @idiot-on-the-hill @ethicalbitch @fandoms-and-things @doreschary @confix

#i wrote this last night so its not much asfhsjs #idk i wrote this last night its not my best but its something asdfhakfkahdhs #happy mother's day everyone!!!#and im legally obligated to baby jack truth so time for baby jack #and i just think dean would weEp #bec writes #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #baby!jack #baby jack truthing #dadstiel #dad!dean #happy mother's day!#destiel #deancas #destiel ficlet #destiel fic #casdean

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magickastiel · 2 years

Text

✨ B&B’S CHRISTMAS ADVENT CALENDAR ✨

17th December - baby, it's cold outside

I am, once again, attempting to write one story through different prompts. I really enjoyed it last time so let’s see if I can do it through December!

check out the other days | now on ao3

Summary: Just a month after defeating Chuck, Sam & Dean are faced with their first real Christmas. Eileen, Jody, Donna, Claire & Kaia descend on the Bunker for a Christmas celebration like no other. But for Dean, Castiel’s confession still weighs heavy. It might be easier to deal with if Cas was actually around to talk to but he and Jack are busy in Heaven. Surely they don’t have time to come home for Christmas…do they?

🥶

Dean can’t sleep.

It’s gone midnight, technically Christmas Day, and while everyone else is tucked under their blankets, Dean is under Baby’s hood.

The familiar smell of oil and metal calms him a little, even as he shivers in his pyjamas in the cold garage.

Everyone had gone to bed in high spirits but Dean can’t shake the thought that something’s wrong. There was something in Sam’s face, a split second of unconcealed panic, before he quickly shrugged it off.

It does occur to Dean that he’s being paranoid.

After Chuck played with their lives for so long, it’s sometimes hard to believe that they really are free. That no one’s operating his strings and making him dance. So he gets paranoid. Not all the time, not about everything, but it does happen.

It’s easing slowly. Having more family around helps - stops him from overthinking like he usually does.

So now, he can’t tell if he’s overreacting or if his gut is telling him something.

He’s trying to push his suspicion away but he can’t quite get past the horror on Sam’s face, the tenseness of Cas’ shoulders or Jack’s words. ‘What if we’re not all together next year?’

What if, what if, what if.

“Dean?”

Dean almost knocks his head on the hood, wrench clattering to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Cas is at his shoulder, peering at him with those blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“S’fine.” Dean wipes his hands with a rag.

“What…” Cas trails off, head tilting. “This isn’t your usual music.”

“Hmm? Oh, no.” Dean feels strangely embarrassed. “Christmas radio station - put it on for Jack when we went to the store. Haven’t got round to changing it.”

Actually, he almost had. But he remembered Jack’s gap-toothed smile and his legs bouncing along to the music and he’d decided to leave it on.

I really can’t stay

Baby, it’s cold outside

As soon as the song begins, Dean tries not to listen.

“Are you alright, Dean? I saw the light and came to check if there was an intruder.” Cas’ eyes study him and he resists the urge to squirm under his intense gaze.

“Yeah, fine. Just…couldn’t sleep, I guess.” He turns back to Baby, pretending to tinker with the oil. He’s starting to realise just how alone they are and his whole body is alive with energy.

“Is there something on your mind?”

“No.” Dean answers automatically, forcing himself to keep his back to Cas. If Cas looks at him he knows he’s gonna see everything.

“Oh.” Cas sounds dejected. “I’ll…leave you, then. I don’t want to intrude.”

Soft footsteps heading to the door match Dean’s heartbeat. He should let him go, let this moment pass like all the others.

Beautiful, what’s your hurry?

“Cas, what’s going on?”

The footsteps stop and so does Dean’s heart.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Dean turns to face him and instantly knows he’s right - something is definitely wrong. There’s that guilty look, one he knows too damn well. Knows it from the ring of holy fire, knows it from Purgatory, knows it from running off with the Colt. Knows it from coming back to life when he thought he’d be dead forever.

“You do.” Dean pushes, invigorated with renewed confidence and frustration. “What’s going on? What ain’t you and Sam telling me?”

Cas huffs. “Dean, I…” He lets out a long sigh and Dean waits, still hoping he’s wrong. “It’s difficult.”

“What is, Cas? Please, man, c’mon. It’s driving me nuts, what’s goin’ on?”

Baby, it’s bad out there.

Cas looks skyward and closes his eyes. “We think we may have found a solution.”

Dean blinks. “Ok, great. To what?”

“Jack being God.”

“Uh, ok.” Dean’s mind whirrs, trying to work out how this all fits together. “Is that something that needs to be solved?”

Cas sighs again, wandering closer. “Not cosmically, no. But Jack is four years old. And while he certainly isn’t a toddler, he’s still very naive. And he wants to live a more normal life. I think he deserves that. I want that for him.”

“Yeah.” In theory, Dean can definitely get behind that. “Makes sense - Jack wants me to show him how to cook.”

“Yes.” Cas totally softens for a moment, close enough for Dean to see the blatant affection radiating from him. “He told me that.”

Your eyes are like starlight now.

“How - ” Dean swallows and tries again. “How would it work? What would he have to do?”

“We have made plans for a council, of sorts. Shared power, shared responsibility. It would require transferring part of Jack’s powers to several different angels on the council. He would still keep some of his powers but they would be more manageable.”

“Thought most of the angels were gone?”

“Jack’s been making more.” Cas nods, looking proud. “He’s doing very well.”

“Huh. Ok, cool.” Dean is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “So, what’s wrong, why couldn’t you just tell me this? Sounds good, like you and Jack might be able to leave them to it at some point.”

Cas looks away and Dean knows there’s something big coming. Cas always looks him in the eyes, even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when it’s too much.

“Jack wants to give me the power too. He thinks I should be one of the angels on the council.”

“I-I guess.” Dean can see the logic in it even if he doesn’t like it very much. “Do you want to? I mean, you’d have a lot more power right?”

“In every way but name, I would be an archangel. I would be very powerful and I would have full use of my wings again.”

“Oh, ok.” Dean forces a smile because he knows how much Cas would love that. “Well, it’d be easy to drop in on us pretty often, right? No more driving everywhere - ”

“I would have to stay.” Cas says quickly, still not meeting Dean’s eyes. “In heaven. Forever.”

I really can’t stay

But baby, it’s cold outside

Dean feels like the garage floor has just tilted and someone’s drained all the colour from the world and all the blood from his body.

“What? You mean - ”

“I would never travel to earth again.” Cas takes a deep breath that he doesn’t need. “I would never see you again.”

Dean tries to process it but his mind keeps rejecting it over and over like a maxed out credit card at an overly full checkout.

“Are you gonna - ”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided. That’s why we came back. We thought some time away would help us work it out.”

How lucky that you dropped in.

“Right.” The void in Dean’s chest is quickly being filled with anger. “And you told Sam about this already?” Cas nods, a wary expression on his face. “We’re supposed to be…” He trails off, eyes stinging and cheeks getting a bit warm. “We’re supposed to be best friends, Cas. You’re meant to tell me stuff like this! You can’t just ignore it.”

Cas looks up, glaring hard enough to make Dean take a step back. “You are not the one to lecture me about that. Every time I have tried to talk to you over the past few days, you have dismissed me.”

Guilt slugs into him like a gut-punch.

“It’s hard for me to confide in you when you won’t let me speak to you.”

Before Dean can say another word, Cas storms out of the garage and back into the Bunker, door slamming closed behind him.

Cold and empty, Dean sits down on the garage floor and cries.

But don’t you see?

How could you do this thing to me?

#b&badventcalendar #destiel fic #destiel #spn fic #spn #supernatural #mine

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

Text

Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good."

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary.

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue.

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

171 notes · View notes

cooloddball · 3 years

Text

This is going to be a super long analysis of jib3 starting with the opening ceremony to the closing ceremony so brace yourselves.

Please note I believe in the breakup theory so maybe my opinion in this one might be biased so please don’t come for me, lol.

I will put it under the cut to avoid overcrowding your dashes with cockles shenanigans.

Also, watch out for profanities and mature language.

And so it begins...

Opening ceremony

The camera used to record the opening ceremony is shaky.

Misha, Jason Manns, and Jarpad seem to be having a lot of fun together and Jensen is just looking at his besties talking to the man he loves and he knows he can’t have that so he just stands there looking at them. Poor guy.

Jarpad asks who took Misha’s riffle? Things are awkward, I honestly don’t know what’s going on.

Misha kisses a plushie while making eye contact with Jensen and Jensen is like “oh, oh, wow” while making eye contact with Misha. LOL. Jack help me. This is a lot!!!

Jensen takes a plushie from Sebastian and Jared takes the one Misha had.

Are you guys flirting about trying to see whether you can keep plushies alive?

Misha throws something at the fans, I think he was throwing treats from earlier or whatever it was and Jensen says “Misha is still throwing” I mean why?

Cockles Panel

Jensen is so extra in this panel.

First of all, when he and Misha come out (no pun intended) a song starts playing and he starts dancing. Jensen is usually so poised while dancing but he is over the top throwing his back and shaking his tush for the mish. I think he was trying a little too hard. Misha spares his ex-boyfriend’s tush a glance smiles and looks away. LOL. The whole thing was cringey, tbh. It was so unlike Jensen.

When Sebastian touches Jensen’s shoulder and says something to Jensen, he [Jensen] laughs way too hard. I would say he laughs abnormally-it’s loud and he throws his whole body into it like he’s trying to prove what Sebastian was funny and it probably wasn’t. He laughs so hard he ends up right on Misha’s side. and Misha laughs at that though.

Rich says something about something in the sac that hurts(It’s incoherent) and Jensen says it hurts right here pointing at his heart (I can’t hear what they are saying exactly so if anyone knows please let me know)

I don’t know if Mark P. was going to hug Jensen or not or he was pointing at something behind Jensen, but at that moment, Jensen sees Sebastian going to hug Misha and whips his head away from Mark P’s direction so fast he almost broke his neck.

Sebastian humps Misha (these two are so playful I love them) and Jensen is just there acting awkward

There’s a comment by Rich about “It’s over, the convention’s over I’m no longer your bitch” I don’t know who this is about.

Now, now, now. This whole time Rich is doing a kissy mouth with his fingers on the monitor behind Jensen and Misha. His hand is right where Misha is standing (you’ll understand once you watch it) so Jensen makes a kissy face back and Misha is blushing? Ummm wtf is going on here?

Jensen also does something strange that he never does during cockles panels he pulls his seat away from Misha.

Misha makes a very weird comment about Sebastian’s libido drying up and they have a weird conversation about libido and Viagra ads. It’s weird.

It gets even more awkward Jensen talks about bringing a total stranger, and a blind date. And it goes downhill from there with them. The it wasn’t you it was me speech. It was special. So heartbreaking. It was clearly not about the show but about their relationship. I always have a difficult time getting through that part. It’s so awkward that the fans are just there wondering what the hell is going on.

They decide to take questions and the fan is all over the place so Misha interjects but Jensen won’t let Misha say what he wants to say so he says, “This is why you make it awkward. You never let people finish what they are saying.” Ouch. Domestic dispute vibes anyone?

The way Jensen is looking up at Misha when he’s answering that question. It’s like he wants to sear his face into his memory before they leave Rome.

Jensen is explaining to a fan how one of the four sound stages they had on set was full of furniture and Misha adds “and soiled mattresses” I mean what was the reason? Did they soil the mattresses with their [redacted]

A fan mentions something about Dean and Cas so these two adorable dorks smile and share a look. Things are starting to look up. Thank Jack.

The fan says something again (I can’t make out what he’s saying) but it must be something nice because they look at each other with smiles on their faces again.

Jensen playing with the head of his microphone. Is it just me or did the temperature rise a notch higher?

The way they look at each other when the fan says to help him choose the hottest female cast member on the show

Then something freaky happens they say the exact same thing as twins or bffs do sometimes. LOL.

When they start talking about the hot women with the fans Misha moves his entire body and now instead of looking at the fans, he is seated facing Jensen. The tension is simmering down.

A point to note is that in all their panels they always sit angled facing each other as opposed to facing the crowd save for this panel and DCCON 2019. But for DCCON I can understand that they weren’t comfortable being meant to be a J/2 panel and a creation event. So you know some people in that crowd are super mean to Mish and others to Jensen, so they had to tread carefully. But I digress back to the chaos.

They ask who wants to have a cockles panel the next year and they both raise their hands. I thought that was sweet

It’s adorable how Jensen keeps repeating everything Misha is saying.

Misha forgets himself and moves too close to Jensen to listen to the song on the phone. Jensen turns to look at Misha, I don’t know what that look is but Misha backs away laughing.

Jensen’s face journey while listening to that song is gold.

Misha moves closer to listen to the song. I have to say the way they are standing is not usually how two bros listening to music usually stand. If you know what I mean

Misha agrees that’s definitely Jensen singing. Of course, he knows because Mr. “Jensen sings to me all the time”

He looks so proud of him. I’d venture to say he’s happy to hear Jensen sing because he has always been so shy about that fact about himself. He even gives him a standing ovation. That’s so adorable. He loves him. My heart.

Jensen is so cute trying to deny it’s not him singing that song. Yeah, it’s you, Jensen. Even your ex agrees it’s you and we bet he knows how your voice sounds in all kinds of situations ;)

we get a tingly feeling so we know it’s you. Jensen’s adorable smile when Misha says that. Aww.

The way they are not even looking at each other but they are seated the exact same way.

Allow me to explain to my friend here. Explains how his parents didn’t know whether he was a boy or a girl. Misha with the steel chair, “when did they figure out that you were a boy?”

How many years did they call you holly?

For six to seven years

Is it just me or is this conversation a flashback of teenage twink-lesbian Jensen years?

Fan asks whether Dean will ever forgive Cas. Watch Misha’s body language, he is trying to pacify himself by rubbing the back of his neck and fumbling with his shirt.

When Jensen says “ No!” without a moment’s hesitation, Misha looks distraught? I don’t know maybe I’m reading too much into this but I feel like this hit too close to home being that they were most likely broken up.

Misha however has a different opinion, “I think he has”

Jensen says, “Wishful thinking” and that elicits a smile from Misha.

A fan asks about Dean giving Cas the trenchcoat back and things get interesting. Weirdly, that Jensen can’t say the word gay out loud. He literally uses the word “unmanly” in its stead in the guise of censorship? It’s not a bad word Jensen you can say it. However, Misha and the fans say the word so I’m wondering who is censoring Jensen’s use of that word. He eventually says it but super fast.

Jensen says that saying “I always knew you would come back” is not something he would say to another human being, especially a man. Jesus, there’s nothing wrong with saying that to another human being you care about. He’s the one making it gay. He was extra when answering that one.

They spent one and half hours making that scene just to end up not saying anything and it ended up looking gay anyway. Anyway, that’s interesting.

Jensen angles his body towards Mish and says in a very low soft and sexy voice “I guess I really hoped that you would come back some day” I would venture to say that Jensen at the moment in the panel was actually saying them to Misha. Who knows though?

They talk about it a whole lot for something that bothered him that much.

Misha being so excited about recreating a scene when a fan told Jarpad he’s amazing and Jarpad said "you are welcome.

“I think I understand what she wants. I’m not sure what she’s gonna get.” This is a very good line Misha. I will be using it often.

The way they awkwardly stand too close and whisper to each other. Umm…what is going on here?

Jensen folds over laughing because of something Misha says. They are back. The tension is almost 90% gone now and they are in their element.

The chaos of recording the alarm ringtone for the fan was just great to watch. They kept getting closer and closer and I think they might have shared spit at that point. Gross….LOL

The way Misha is sitting is he you know.

Jensen asking Misha whether he was saying anything or just screaming while they were recording. I think he just wanted to see Misha smile.

Jensen’s joy when a fan mentions that they have Misha’s résumé.

Jensen saying the word shit made my day. I curse a lot and it made me feel validated somehow.

Misha calls him dickhead in return and Jensen stops functioning and laughs instead . He also gets all hot and bothered trying to fumble with the lapel of his shirt. He does this a lot when he is turned on. He has a humiliation kink I think.

They start talking over each other about Misha’s special skills. Looks like Jensen might have known beforehand because he went straight for that. Or maybe he didn’t know but he knew since Misha is a mad genius there must be some amazing things in there. Either way, it was a good moment.

OMG Jensen is so excited and the way he motions to Misha to bring that résumé to him, LOL. This man was thirsty AF.

He even goes down from the stage to meet Misha and invades his personal space trying to reach the résumé. I think this is the moment the tension between them dissipated completely and they were back to some form of normalcy.

Misha holding Jensen’s shoulder trying to get his résumé back. Unsucessfully, I should add.

They read something funny and they fold over laughing and spin around like overjoyed seals. It is far removed from the mollusk family but at least it’s still a sea creature (I don’t know what I’m saying please don’t mind me)

Jensen is still on his knees laughing and can’t get up. As I said, he is being too extra in this panel.

Misha is trying to talk but they both can’t stop laughing. I think Jensen laughed so hard he got an extra set of abs that day.

Jensen is still laughing and you know what he is laughing at? Misha’s special skills being acting on camera. I mean it’s funny but man, prayforjensen.

They are still laughing. Jack, help them.

The way Jensen looks at Misha with pure adoration here makes me so happy and reminds me of the fictional characters they played being all heart eyes for each other.

Misha laughed so hard he cried.

Jensen trying to read the next ‘special skill’ Misha has but he can’t even talk because of how funny he thinks it is. He’s trying so hard not to laugh but he can’t help himself.

Jensen agreeing and also asking the audience to agree that Misha has a knack for certain accents. Accent kink anyone?

Jensen is so excited when Misha starts Tibetan throating singing and does the unicorn laugh facing away from the crowd. Bet he has experienced Misha’s Tibetan throat singing skills on a personal when they are (loud overhead helicopter noises followed by thunder rumbling)

Jensen falling to the ground after feigning a heart attack once he saw that Misha is a certified EMT. I mentioned before that I honestly, 100% think he wanted mouth to mouth. There’s no other explanation. He could’ve feigned a nose bleed or just about any other illness but he chose to fall on a dirty floor and lay down so Misha could either give him the breath of life or straddle him. Luckily for him his dream came true 7 years later at Jib9 when straddle gate happened. But I digress

Too bad Misha was still mad at him and heartbroken so he kicked him instead.

Jensen knowing that Misha kayaks seems to be part of his personal knowledge. Maybe they did it together sometimes.

Horseback riding. Hmm is it just me or do they seem awkward here?

Misha is so close to Jensen’s armpits. Must be missing his man’s musk and being held in those muscular arms again. Poor baby.

Misha can’t talk because of how funny he finds bicycle touring. I mean…I don’t see what’s funny but I guess he knows why it’s funny.

Misha laughing and raises his legs because Jensen is elaborating on the bicycle touring. Maybe it’s an inside joke or maybe it’s no longer funny to me because I’ve watched this panel like 5 times.

I think Jensen’s goal was to see Misha laugh and be happy because he turned to look at Misha who was still laughing hard and the joy on Jensen’s face. Aww.

Misha gravitating towards his man again. He must smell really nice Misha. And those arms. Bet he used to lift you against the wall and (this fucking thunder won’t stop rambling. Are chuck and Amara fighting again?)

Jensen marketing his man’s carpentry skills but then makes sure to make it ‘no homo’ by saying he would never sit on anything Misha has built. Sure Jan. Then he circles back and says that he knows that he can build things.

Misha walks away from him and he looks up to make sure where he is going. Maybe he was afraid Misha was walking out on him. (PTSD from their breakup?)

They mention acting on camera again.

And laugh

Jensen keeps talking about the acting on camera and watches to see if Misha is still laughing He still is and Jensen is happy that his baby is happy. He looks at him again and he is still happy that Misha is still happy. Then once the laughter dies down he starts talking about bicycle touring and checks again to see if Misha is laughing which he is so Jensen throws his head back unicorn laughing and then looks at Misha again to see that he’s still laughing. Then they look at each other and say something maybe it’s about that was a good laugh. Jensen is wiping tears from his eyes because of how hard he laughed Misha does the same. That entire thing was insane and they seemed to love it.

Jensen starts saying that being this happy or goofing around is how they are on set sometimes and have to take a 5-10 minute break and Misha doesn’t seem too happy at the mention of the set.

Jensen knowing that you can buy résumés on eBay. Did he buy Misha’s and then plant someone in the audience to bring it up or? Okay, yeah I know I’m reaching here but it’s probable.

I guess my theory wasn’t farfetched because Jensen says that he’s pretty sure that Jarpad put it on eBay the previous night so maybe he is the one who did all that to win Misha back?

Jensen knows the appellation clogging is a stretch. Seems like Misha has told him about it before.

Jensen looking at his watch to see if they have time for Misha to be telling a story about his high school sweetheart and now wife. I bet he wishes Misha could tell their love story so openly. He can’t stop looking at Misha.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha here. WTF man? He’s literally confused about what the question is.

The personal space question. This whole thing was just so many things. It was awkward, cringey, thirsty, funny.

when the fan asks whether there’s a funny fact between Jensen and Misha. I almost fainted. What? And Jensen repeats it. The two men are so stoic. They are not even looking at each other. They are looking at the fan like the way a statue stares at you, unmoving. Cringe.

The room is so quiet. Poor girl, I hope she didn’t feel awkward afterwards because if it were me, I would’ve cried from how stoic they looked and how quiet everyone was.

How they both scratch themselves, Misha on the head and Jensen on the nose. Maybe the question hit too close to home

Jensen turns to look at Misha as if to say ’help me out here man. We don’t wanna disappoint our fans.”

Misha gets it because he gets up. This whole thing is gold.

The way Jensen breathes out in anticipation. I know it was like they were playing a skit about personal space but why was he breathing like that? Shouldn’t he have been playing it as ‘uncomfortable’ not ‘turned on.’ Boudoir mannerisms.

Moving on Misha is unsure on where to touch Jensen 40.31. This is weird in and of itself because usually, they don’t have a problem touching each other’s faces, tush, eggplants, (jib4 anyone), backs et cetera. But now it’s weird? *cough* breakup *cough*

Misha touches Jensen’s ear and Jensen literally moans. He frigging moans people. In case it is not clear in the video, here is an isolated audio version of it. Jensen is also fumbling with his shirt like he’s all hot and bothered. Just like Misha did earlier. Was Jib3 their couple’s therapy that reminded them how happy and horny they made each other?

Jensen is really not answering the question, to be honest. He’s fumbling for words and trying so very hard to make sense but his word are incoherent.

Misha going in for the nose dip. I know friends do this all the time but you have to be very close and familiar with someone such as a friend friend or a sibling for you to poke a finger in their nose. I mean noses are slimy and eww…anyway. That happened. They seem so comfortable with it. Jensen I love you but please stop talking.

The way Jensen looks at Misha. He has the cutest smile on his face as if saying thank you for making that fun and making me horny, I still want you.

Misha wiping his pinky that touched Jensen’s nose on his pants. (I wanted to add something disgusting about what heshould’ve done with that pinky but I won’t so let’s move on)

Jensen wiggling his nose.

When Misha suggests that Spn moves to Nickolodeon. Jensen laughs a bit too hard.

Misha talking about spn being a puppet show reminds me of how he mentioned them having a puppet show in Jensen’s backyard after the show is over.

Jensen also saying that in a way spn is a puppet show. I mean is someone making snide comments about how their strings get pulled and sometimes they are not happy about it. Like how they fired his boyfriend. It seems like it’s an inside joke.

They named the plushie Zippy aww :))

For jack’s sake guys, the way they look at each other when they mention that the résumé was the highlight of the panel.

Jensen saying the more dirt you dig up on Misha, the more rewarded you are. Aww, someone’s trying to win his man back by any means necessary. You go girl…I mean Jensen.

He talks more about how he’s looking forward to next year when fans have more dirt on his friend Misha. Jensen didn’t want to leave the stage, he was lingering so he could spend more time with Misha.

It’s over guys.

Closing Ceremony

I know you didn’t ask for the closing ceremony but here you go. It’s a free gift.

Can I just mention how Jarpad is an overactive puppy? He has to play with anything and everything he finds.

The mc announces Misha twice for some reason. The second time Jensen looks in Misha’s direction with a small smile on his face. He [Jensen] is also chewing vigorously.

Jensen and Jarpad being typical dude bros and karate chop Rich. This is why the difference between his relationship with Jarpad and Misha stands out. He would be too busy making heart eyes to Misha to kick another guy. LoL.

Jensen hulking out when Jarpad is taking a video of everyone. Lol. This video keeps reiterating my point that his relationship with the two men is just different.

Jensen keeps looking in Misha’s direction, Misha who is busy talking to Steve and having fun. Let me also mention Steve is Jensen’s bestie and so are Jarpad and Misha, but I’m sure that Jensen felt some type of way, jealous when they were having so much fun with his man and he couldn’t. Jarpad also takes a while filming Misha for Jensen of course. They remind me of me having a crush back when I was in school. Wait, did Misha look at Jensen? It’s hard to see because the angle of the video is not expansive but I guess he was.

As soon as Jarpad gets back, Jensen takes the camera from him and starts filming fans. I’m sure he just wanted Misha to look at him

Rich mention’s Misha and something about acting on camera and Jensen licks his lips looking at Misha (I think).

Jensen then vigorously grabs the microphone from someone immediately and mention’s Misha. Jarpad’s reaction at that moment tells you everything you need to know about what’s going on between Jensen and Misha. It looks like he is pleading with Jensen in his head saying, “Don’t embarrass yourself bro. Please don’t” but it’s too late.

Jensen again talks about Misha’s résumé and specifically about acting on camera, the thing that made Misha laugh out loud during their panel. Someone’s smitten. Defending his ex-man.

Jarpad goes to whisper something to Misha. And they laugh while Jensen is thanking the jib staff for doing an amazing job. But when he sees the duo laughing, he loses track of thought and says “and they are all getting married” dude what ??? How do you go from thanking people who worked on the convention and in .1 seconds you are talking about they are all getting married? Who is? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? No one gets it, he says he’s kidding and gives Jarpad the microphone, spares a glance at Misha and he seems distraught from that moment on. I wish I could see Misha’s face through all this.

He’s glancing in Misha’s direction again. Man’s got it bad. What?! Oh to be loved by Jensen Ackles. Misha must be a prize, I know he is a mad genius and gorgeous and sexy as hell with that golden skin that looks like it was dipped in gold and honey, big blue eyes that are bluer than the bluest blue, but Jensen wtf man? You are in public.

I think Jarpad is telling Jensen something maybe it has to do with what he and Misha were talking about earlier?

And it’s over people.

Overall, I agree with the breakup theory. I mean the way these two were acting around each other was very strange. If you watch Misha and Jarpad, they seem okay from the opening ceremony up till the end but Jensen and Misha are just being weird.

The panel was mostly fun but their body language told a story that something was definitely going on between them.

@littlewolf2703

#jib3 #jibcon 2012 #jib3 analysis #jib3 cockles panel #cockles #this was a doozy #glad to be done #there was a lot going on in that panel #cockles break up #cockles break up theory

221 notes · View notes

pixie88 · 2 years

Text

The Bunker

Chapter 4 - Teddy.

A/N | I have edited the next chapter too. So they will be out next week before Christmas. After that it will be in the new year!

Let me know what you loved and hated about this chapter!

I will only tag those that ask, so just pop me a message.

Summary | Lyla and Teddy meet the family.

Check out previous chapters Here!

Word count | 2.2k

Warnings | 18 + Only! Fluff.

Pairings | Dean Winchester x Lyla Woods.

Enjoy!

Arriving at the bunker Sam and Dean introduces Lyla to Mary, Eileen and Jack. Charlie is away on a job. Mary is smitten with her new grandson, "Dean, he has your eyes!" Dean smiles proudly. Showing her to her room Lyla takes a little time to settle in and find her way round.

It's going to be fine! She thought to herself.

A week later, Dean watches Lyla in the library reading to Teddy, he smiles watching them, the scene warms his heart.

He hears the door to the bunker opens "Wat up, bitches!!" she hears a female voice call out. Dean comes running through the library and towards the stairs, followed by Sam "Charlie! It's so good to see you!" Dean calls out as he collides with Charlie. "Charlie, how you are doing?" Sam asks. "Good, but I can't wait for a beer and a catch up! You?"

"There's something we need to tell you..." Charlie pushes pasted them "Can we do that over a beer?" She steps into the library and notices Lyla and Teddy "Oh? Hi!" Charlie offers her a smile "Hi!" Lyla smiles back. Dean coughs, "Lyla this is Charlie and Charlie this is Lyla and Teddy, my son!" she's taken aback.

"Son?!" she questions Dean "Like I said we have something to tell you...lets get a beer and catch up!" she follows Dean and Sam towards the kitchen.

Leaving Lyla and Teddy alone again.

Lyla is in her room "Teddy, what a cute name!" Lyla looks over her shoulder towards, Charlie leans against the door frame "Thank you!" Lyla smiles softly "Can I meet him properly?"

Looking towards his cot, he's still awake. "Yeah, of course!" Charlie steps towards the cot "Hello cutie pie! He is gorgeous, he has your eyes!" Charlie picks him up out of his cot "Really? I thought he had Deans!" Charlie looks over to her and back at Teddy "Nah, Deans are darker!"

"Sam and Dean told me about your mom..I'm sorry!" Charlie smiles softly at her "Thanks, I'm still trying to get my head around it all." Teddy blew bubbles at Charlie, "It's nice to have another woman around the place! We need a girls night, you, Eileen, Mary and I!" Lyla laughs, "That would be nice!"

Three weeks later..

"Come on, Teddy bear!" Lyla cradles him trying to get him down for the night "Want me to have a go?" looking up, she saw Mary stood in the doorway, "You can try!" Mary wanders over taking Teddy from her arms and start to rock him. "So how you settling in?" Mary whispers, "ok, it just takes some getting used to!" she smiles back at her "Your telling me! I can back and the whole world changed!" Lyla laughs.

"Lyla!!" Charlie calls out before bursting into Lyla's bedroom, she notices Mary trying to get Teddy to sleep "Sorry, I wanted to know if you wanted to come out on a girls night with Eileen?" Lyla looks up to Teddy "I would, but Teddy....sorry I can't!"

"Yeah, you can! Go! I'll watch Teddy!" Mary tells her "are you sure?" Mary nods "Go on let your hair down!" Lyla smiles "thank you!" Mary gets up and leaves the room, "I'll have him in my room with me tonight."

Charlie starts searching in Lyla's wardrobe for an outfit "Oooh leather trousers, definitely! Netted blouse and vest, perfect! Now shoes!" She pulls out a pair of red heels "You need to wear those!"

A little later "I love this song!!!" Lyla races onto the dance floor "Whoa-oh-oh! Sweet child o' mine. Whoa, oh-oh-oh! Sweet love of mine!" Lyla sings along to the song Charlie joins her on the dance floor "Come on, Eileen!" Lyla calls over, but she declines. The pair continue dancing and laughing.

Once the song finishes, Charlie drags her over to the bar, "Shot!" Lyla orders another round and takes it to the table. "I'm so go-going to be hanging tomorrow!" Eileen laughs. "Just get drunk enough not to care!" Lyla winks.

"You know when I first meet you I thought you were a snob, but you're actually alright!" Charlie nudges Lyla "Thanks! When I first meet you I thought you were Dean's girlfriend!" Lyla laughs, "Ewww, gross!" Charlie hisses "I thought you were a snob too!" Eileen confesses "Thanks girls! I hope I've changed your opinion now?" the pair nod.

As they arrive back at the bunker late, they walk past the kitchen and Dean emerges "Good night girls?" Dean asks, "t-tis girl i-is a m-monster!" Charlie slurs her words barely keeping herself up "don't blame the bartender because you can't handle your drink!" Lyla teases her. "I'm going to bed!" Eileen waves at them. "Night!" Lyla calls after her and Dean nods.

"So ya c-calling t-those d-dudes?" Charlies nudges her "Huh?" Dean questions hers "s-she g-got four g-guys n-numbers i-in o-one night! I-I'm off to bed!" she leaves them to it. "Night!" Dean calls after her "Sweet dreams!" Lyla laughs at her swaying, "I'm starving! Oh have we got anything to make burgers?" she moves past Dean and into the kitchen in search of food. "I don't think we do!" he calls after her. "Oh! I'm really feeling a burger!" she frowns.

Dean picks up his car keys "Come on, then!" he says making his way to the garage, she quickly follows him.

Twenty minutes later they pull up to a drive through burger joint, Dean rolls down his window "Can I take your order?"

"Yeah, can I get two cheeseburgers, two fries, a couple of strawberry milkshakes and two slices of your pie of the day!" Dean orders "Is that everything?"

"Yeah, thanks!" Dean drives on to the next window.

A few minutes later their order is ready Dean pulls into a car parking space, he hands her the food and she takes a bite of her burger "Oh my god that taste so good!!" she says with a full mouth. He chuckles, "wait till you try the pie!" he winks, "so err... you got a few numbers tonight?" he asks as a ping of jealousy hits the pit of his stomach, she nods.

"Are you going to call them?" he reluctantly asks, she laughs, "Nope! One of them was waaay outta my league, he had a Gucci suit! The second was a bit plain, third seemed like a slut and the fourth! Wow he loved himself! Those went in the bin!" she laughs. He felt relieved, but couldn't understand how she could be out of anyone's league, "you're wrong!" she looked over to him, "Huh?" she questioned.

"When you said you were out of his league...you were wrong!" he winks taking a bite out of his burger, she can't help, but blush "how's ya burger?" she changes the subject. "Good!" he says stuffing fries into his mouth, even watching him eat she finds him cute. "Thanks!" she says, "Thanks?"

"For bringing me to get a burger!" she smiles, "I had my own motives!" he chuckles, she pinches her brows together. He reaches inside the bag and pulls out a slice of the pie, making her shake her head and laugh. "Come on, it can't be that good!" she teases him.

"Try it!" he pulls out the other slice in its paper bag and hands it her. She takes a bit "Well?" She laughs, "Ok, it's really good! But not the best!" she hums. He smirks, "you're lying!" he says only to tease her. "Is this the best place in town for pie?" he nods as he stuffs his face.

Pulling into the garage they get out and head downstairs, "I'm going to check on Teddy." Lyla sneaks into Mary's room Dean stands by the door "Night, Teddy bear. I love you!" she whispers and quickly sneaks out the room "Sorry, I have to always kiss him Goodnight before I got to bed."

"It's sweet!" he smiles at her as they walk to their rooms, "How are you feeling about everything that has happened?" he asks her. "Honestly?" he nods, "I've been trying not to think about it too much because every time I do I get upset!" she could feel her eyes glass over. Noticing her upset Dean stops them both and wraps his arms around her, his hand rubs her back as she begins to sob.

"Sorry, I'm OK until it gets brought up!"

"I should've thought!" They stay like this for a couple of minutes until Lyla pulls away, wiping her running mascara with her fingers "Sorry I must look a mess!" she softly chuckles. Dean moves a strand of hair from her face "Nah, still beautiful!" his eyes burn into hers. She feels drawn to him and can tell he does too as he moves in.

Their lips meet, his hand cups the nape of her neck as his tongue finds hers. Her arms wrap around his neck and he pins her against the wall behind her, but she pulls away "I-I'm sorry, I-I..." she stutters "no, it was my fault, I shouldn't have...night Lyla!" he walks off leaving her standing there.

Her head is thumping, she groans checking the time "four hours sleep? Argh!" Not wanting to get up, she rolls over, but it's not about wanting anymore she needs to her headache beats away.

Finally pulling herself up out of bed, she makes her way to the kitchen, hoping a coffee will help her hangover. She can hear someone is up and already in the kitchen as she gets closes she can hear the hushed voices of Dean and Charlie.

She stops outside the kitchen door out of sight, but peaks from around the corner "Burger joint, huh?! You know how to treat a girl Dean Winchester!"

"I was being nice! I would have done it for you!" he hisses.

"But you wouldn't be blushing if you did it for me!" Charlie teases him, "come on, something must have happened!" Dean grumbles, "I kissed her OK! Happy!?"

"And she...kissed..you back?" Dean sighs, "she did, but then she pulled away!"

"What did you do?" Charlie quizzed him, "I said I shouldn't have done that and walked off!"

"Dean! Dean! Dean! You are so irritating sometimes!"

"What?! What was I supposed to do?!" he hissed "stop and think! The girl has just lost what little family, she had left. I don't think she's looking for a hook up from you!"

"Huh? What?" Charlie huffed "She likes you! I've seen the way she looks at you and the way you look at her when you think no one is watching!"

He chuckles "I have no idea what you are talking about!" Charlie groans with frustration "OK, you don't feel anything for her?" He holds his head in his hands "I know you do, that's why you are upset she pulled away. But what was that going to lead to?"

"I don't know, we might have had sex..."

"Then what?" He stutters his next words "see how t-things go f-from there! I don't know!" Charlie sighed, "No! You need to take her on a date make her feel special not just bang her then see if things develop! Also ask yourself if a relationship is what you want?"

"Do things to make her feel special? Like what? And I didn't until I found out about Teddy, but now I'm thinking maybe I can?!" Charlie sighs, "make her a coffee or breakfast! That sort of stuff! Just go the right way about it!" Lyla heard a bedroom door open she pulls back from the kitchen door and pretend to yawn walking back up to it as if she had just woken up. The hushed voices go dead as she walks into the kitchen "Morning!" Charlie says brightly "morning!" Dean hums.

"Argh, head hurt!" she flops herself down onto the bench next to Charlie, resting her head on Charlie's shoulder "Oh no! Did the poor bartender drink too much?!" Charlie teases her, "Argh, I need coffee!" she groans, "I'll make you one!" Dean gets up from the table and makes her a coffee "Waffles?" he calls over "Please!"

"Hey Lyla, Dean and I were just talking about perfect dates. What would you say your perfect date is?" Charlie winks at Dean subtly, Lyla lifts her head "Erm...something fun like drinks at a bar playing darts or pool or maybe bowling and food!"

"Not a dinner at a restaurant then?" Charlie quizzes her "those kinda dates are ok, but just standard! What about you?"

"Larping duh!" the pair laughs as Dean places a coffee down in front of Lyla "Thanks, what about you, Dean?" he looks at her "I'm good with anything!" he sits opposite them.

"Right, I need to dressed, there's a job in Tulsa waiting for me!" Charlie gets up from the bench, "Need a hand?" Dean asks, "Nope, I have a friend there!" she winks. "Have fun!!" Lyla smiles at her. When Lyla has turned away Charlie gestures for him to talk to Lyla "Will do! Laters, bitches!" Dean waves.

"About last night.." Dean starts to bring up, "Look, I'm sorry, it took me by surprise that's all!" she says as she's drinking her coffee. "You didn't mind?" he looks up at her, making goosebumps cover her body. She looks down at her mug "No, I didn't mind!"

"What if I asked you on a date?" she looks up at him, he's being serious.

Chapter 5

@secretaryunpaid @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @palmaviolet @peonierose @littleone65 @pixie-b

#dean winchester #dean x mc #dean winchester x Lyla woods #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fangirl #supernatural family #supernatural fanfic series #@pixie88 #teddy series

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

Text

Drug of Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 3,790

Summary: A night of drunken rambling leads to an unexpected change in your relationship status.

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, feelings of inadequacy, very slight allusions of alcoholism/talk of drug addiction, reader likes the sound of their voice a bit too much when drunk, fluff, implied smut

A/N: written for @deanwanddamons 1st blogiversary and 2k follower celebration challenge! my prompt was “I wish I knew how to quit you“ which is bolded in the fic. congrats on the incredible milestone, sorry this is late! also for @spnfluffbingo and it fills the mood board square for @girl-next-door-writes‘ Make Me Feel Bingo challenge!

Square Filled: Kissed to Keep Quiet

MASTERLIST

It was four in the morning when Dean finally came home, and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat before you atop the library table was over a quarter of the way through.

The heavy thud of his boots against the bunker floor drew your dark-adjusted eyes toward his shadowy figure, while the alcohol in your bloodstream loosened your lips, "How was she?"

"Jesus- Fuck!" There was a slight commotion before the lights flickered on, forcing your eyes to shut against the onslaught of sudden brightness. "Y/N??” Dean’s gruff, alarmed voice shattered the previously eerie silence, “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark by yourself?"

Your eyelids lifted an experimental sliver but you kept your gaze directed down at the glass of whiskey in your hands. "It wasn't dark when I started."

Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed the slur behind your words. "Started what? Are you drunk?"

His second question prompted a dismissive snort from you, "Hunters can't get drunk; you should know that by now, Dean."

"Yeah alright, we need to get you to bed." The man of your dreams began to make his way over to you until your gravelly words ceased his steps.

"I can't sleep... you haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"How was she?"

"Who?"

You looked at him like he was crazy, "You know, the girl from the bar, the one with the curly hair… the one that was climbing onto your lap when I left?"

"I don't- there was no girl," Dean stumbled. His lips were parted and his eyebrows pulled together in an ever-gorgeous expression of bewilderment, but you were too busy examining the way the newfound light danced along the lustrous amber liquid between your fingers to notice.

"Oh," you grumbled in response, sounding a bit disappointed, which only served to deepen those adorable lines of confusion between Dean’s brows. "She sure was pretty though.” There was a pause as you pondered his declaration before blurting out in disbelief, “You really didn't fuck her in the back of Baby?"

"What- No! Y/N, there was never a girl and nothing happened, OK?" He sounded genuinely serious, so you conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"Why- why are you sorry?"

"I know you needed to blow off some steam after today, after I pissed you off by fucking up the hunt." You ventured a glance up at him through your lashes and the unadulterated pain in your eyes almost had Dean reeling back in surprise.

"What are you talking about? You didn't 'fuck up' the hunt," he argued, shaking his head as if to accentuate his point.

"Course I did. I got you hurt and I nearly let that dickbag get away."

A weighted sigh escaped Dean, "Y/N, you have to know that wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing for me. Besides, I wasn’t pissed off, I was... I was scared, OK?”

You were about to take another sip of your drug of the night when you lowered your glass to let the irrepressible giggle leave your system, “Scared? Since when does the big bad Dean Winchester get scared? And if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be talking about it out loud. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

“I mean, I have been drinking but that’s beside the point. Look, Y/N, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, alright? You’ve just gotta sleep this off.”

"Pft. This isn't something I can just sleep off. Trust me, I've tried." There was a tickle in your throat that alerted you of the oncoming word vomit, but your friend Mr. Daniels seemed to be gaining complete control of your tongue; it was all he was ever good for really, “I’ve also tried drinking it away, but clearly that doesn’t work either. There’s just- so much- of it, of you… and now, now you’re in me-“ Dean’s eyes went wide but you were no longer at liberty to stop, “and I can’t get you out. Sometimes I don’t even think I want to. But I don’t think I can keep going like this any longer either… all this waiting, and wondering, and watching.” Some fragment of sobriety within you recognized how ridiculous and melodramatic you sounded and it gave you enough sense to avoid eye contact with the subject of you’re alcohol-induced speech, as if that could help you elude further embarrassment.

“OK, you’ve gotta slow down, Y/N/N. What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, Dean had moved to take the seat across from you, subtly sliding the bottle of Jack out of your reach as he sat down.

A mirthless laugh was your reply, "Of course you don’t know. Why would you?“

“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, what’s going on?”

But you ignored his questions and answered with one of your own, “Why am I never enough? You know what, don't answer that; that was a rhetor- rhetor…”

“Rhetorical?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, flailing your index finger in his direction, “Yes, that’s the word. See, even your brain is too good for me.”

“What- why would you say that? Y/N, you know that’s not true. And why do you think you’re never enough? You’re plenty enough.” Concern now painted Dean’s features. He hated seeing you this way, broken and depressed, trying to drown your feelings in whiskey; he’d figured that was his trademark amongst the bunker residents. And he couldn’t understand how someone as incredible as you would think themselves unworthy of anything. Whichever son of a bitch made you feel this way would pay, Dean swore it.

“Then how come you never pick me?” you countered simply, deciding it was finally time to call out his hypocrisy.

The accusation floored Dean. He scooted back in his seat as he stared at you with a slack jaw, utter perplexity swirling within his emerald eyes. Over the years, Dean had garnered an inkling that you felt some kinda way about him, but he never really let himself believe, and not once did he think he could be hurting you. On the contrary, he always figured it was his own hopeful heart playing tricks on him. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure he was hearing you correctly, or that your drunken state could be trusted, though he remembered you once told him that you were always the most honest version of yourself when you drank, whiskey in particular.

“I watch you go out with waitress after bartender after waitress, but I’ve been here the whole time, and you never consider me. It’s like I don’t even exist, like I’m not even an option, like I could never even help you scratch that itch, at least not as good as any barfly across the Midwest could.” You were aware that this was getting out of hand, but you couldn’t seem to find the brakes. “But that’s not even the real problem – I mean, sure, a roll around the hay with you would probably be mind-blowing as fuck – but it would never solve the root of it, never be enough for me.”

Dean had been studying you meticulously as you spoke, your words starting a fire to the embers of his soul, breathing life into a long-forgotten hope that brought him both joy and fear. “What would? Be enough for you, I mean?” His tone took on a raw sultriness that matched the intense, borderline predatory glaze of his eyes. Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected your sardonic laughter to fill the air, and your sudden frenzied, carefree state certainly took him off guard.

“Nothing!” you laughed, “I don’t think anything will ever be enough for me! C-cause you’re like this drug that I’m hooked on and it’s just so fucking hard to get off… I mean, it’s also hard to get off without you now, or thoughts of you anyway...” Your tangent was quickly overcome when you remembered the topic of your initial spiel, “But it’s like everything about you draws me in! From the way you reference classic literature even though I’ve never seen you pick up a book that’s not about lore, to the way you rebuild Baby from scratch like it’s no big deal, to the way you’re so good with kids even though you never got to be one yourself, to the dumb way you bottle up all your feelings and never let them see the light of day yet still manage to do so much good in the world, t-to the way you get excited over classic rock and crappy horror movies and pie, and don’t even get me started on the way you love Sam! I mean, it’s just all of it! It’s your strength and perseverance through literal hell, it’s your huge fucking heart despite the mask of swagger and charm, it’s that stupid grin you get when you make a dumb joke and Sam rolls his eyes at you, it’s just those god damn lips in general! And then you walk around looking like that!?” you gestured wildly at all of him, “I mean, who gave you the right?!”

Dean looked like he was about to respond, but you cut him off. There really was no stopping your tirade now, “I’m like an addict who can never get enough, and when you leave, I get feelings of withdrawal, and I don’t know how to fucking deal with those either… You’re so deeply ingrained in me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to flush you out of my system. And I just-“ you took a rare pause to heave a large breath before admitting quietly, “I wish I knew how to quit you. I really do, because as much as I love you, and trust me, it’s a whole fucking lot – God, does it feel good to finally say that out loud – but for every ounce of love that I have for you, for every bit of you that I’ve inhaled, it hurts just as much. Because you don’t feel the same, and you never will, and I don’t blame you, because you’re Dean fucking Winchester and you could have whoever you want with just a wink and half a smile, and you deserve to have whoever you want-”

“Are you done?” Dean was quick to latch onto the brief respite in your monologue, “Fuck, Y/N, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you are to me?” His head shook in disbelief while his troubled green eyes searched yours.

“What I am to you? I’m your hunting buddy, Dean. The one you call when you need an extra hand with a vamp nest or an extra set of eyes to scour the books, the one who stays up with you when you have nightmares about the souls you tortured in hell, the one you sing rock songs out of tune in the car with, just never the one you go to for a booty call,” you finished with a bitter laugh.

Dean’s head had never ceased it’s shaking, even as he got up and walked around the table towards you. “Only because you’re worth so much more than that. Y/N, you deserve so much more than me.”

It was your turn to shake your head. How typical, you thought as you rolled your eyes and stood up to meet his eye line, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean. I know you’re trying to let me down easy and that’s nice of you and all, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well, Dean Winchester, and I know there’s no way in hell that- Mmf!“ The rest of your words were intercepted by Dean’s lips on yours.

The feeling was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. There was an urgent force behind the kiss as he pushed his mouth against yours with gentle yet firm ferocity, bracing your head with large hands cupping both sides. It felt as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to you, to disprove your woeful words of self-pity, or perhaps he just wanted you to shut up. You, of course, responded with tremendous enthusiasm regardless of his intent, grasping blindly at his forearms while slotting your tongue and lips around his in an increasingly frantic manner. You didn’t care if the kiss wasn’t good for him; this might be your only chance to take what you need from Dean Winchester, if only a tiny fraction of it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting for air. Dean still held your head in both hands as he leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that; you’re drunk... Do you at least believe me now?”

A slight grimace contorted Dean’s features as his mind was suddenly bombarded by a multitude of conflicted thoughts and feelings, feelings of desire and regret and bliss and unease, but when he caught the dazed look in your eyes, Dean made up his mind, “Ah, what the hell, you’re probably not gonna remember much of this anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re wrong. I do feel the same way about you; I have pretty much ever since I saw that magnificent ass of yours.” Pausing to chuckle at his own words, Dean licked his lips, still able to taste the whiskey from yours.

“The only reason I fucked around with those other people was because I couldn’t stand not being able to have you,” he continued through closed eyes and gritted teeth before filling his chest with a deep breath, “Like today, when I saw that fucking werewolf come at you, I nearly lost it. The thought of anything happening to you scares me shitless, and I didn’t know how to process that feeling, so I let that girl at the bar get close. I was trying to fill the hole you created but it was pointless cause in the end, just like every other time, I couldn’t go through with it. Every time I try to forget about you, your face shows up in my head,” he growled in that low, throaty tone that always seemed to reverberate down to your nether regions.

“But I- I wasn’t lying when I said you deserve more than me. Y/N, you know me. I’m a broken, twisted, shell of a man. I’m-“

“Poison, I know,” you finally lifted your head away from his so that you could look directly into his dazzling eyes. Dean’s hands slid down along your neck and landed on your shoulders while yours remained on his forearms, not willing to lose all contact. “I know what you’re gonna say. You think you’re poison, that being with you puts a target on my back, that loving you is a death sentence… Did I get that right?”

Dean gave you a miniscule nod and a look of resignation as he reluctantly released you from his hold, forcing you to let go as well when he took a large step back. You suddenly felt extremely sober, the effects of the alcohol and that kiss all wearing off instantaneously, “And you hate yourself. No one hates you more than you, Dean.” Your voice was hardly a whisper now, “But that’s OK, cause I hate myself too, for never being able to make you realize that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for, that you deserve all the things you think you can’t have, that you can have them all and still be Dean Winchester.”

You watched as Dean’s eyes began to water and when a single tear rolled down his cheek, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Approaching him as slowly as you would a nervous animal out of its natural habitat, you stopped directly before him before cautiously raising your arm to wipe the offending tear away with your thumb. Your eyes seemed to be locked in a silent exchange of colossal magnitude, expressing everything mere words could not, from harrowing regret to agonizing self-inflicted torment to desperate desire. It was the yearning in his shimmering eyes that gave you the courage to speak your next words, a runaway tear of your own joining the whispered plea, “Please, let me show you.”

When your eyes fluttered open the next day, they were greeted with the most beautiful sight you'd ever awoken to. Dean’s face was barely a foot away from yours, and the man himself was already awake, staring directly at you. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards you, while your body was twisted to face his. A bedside lamp was on, allowing you to marvel at the breathtaking perfection in front of you, and despite the booze having long since evacuated from your veins, your mouth still imparted the first thing that came to your mind, “You know, I've always wanted to count your freckles,” you murmured honestly, “Maybe map them out like tiny constellations so I can memorize them better, so that one day I could trace them even with my eyes closed.” Your fingertips moved of their own accord as you spoke, gliding softly over his cheeks and across the ridge of his perfect nose.

Dean caught your hand in his and kissed it repeatedly as his magical olive eyes continued to bore into yours, never once leaving your face. His pouty lips curved into the slightest smile as if he were afraid to rear hope yet couldn't fight the peaceful thrill you were bringing him by simply lying next to him. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“Not unless it counts to be drunk on you… Sorry, that sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.” You cringed but Dean’s smile broadened.

“And no hangover?”

“No, I told you, hunters can’t-“

“Get drunk. Yeah, I heard. So does that mean you remember everything?”

“I don’t think I could forget that kiss if I wanted to; my brain wouldn’t let me.” You glanced down at his gorgeous mouth before meeting his gaze again, “I meant it all, you know? Everything I said was the truth. Every word.” You moved your thumb to graze his lower lip and he puckered his lips to kiss it.

“So did I, every word… Especially the part about that sweet ass of yours.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours roamed down to grab at your butt cheek with a hefty yet tender squeeze, causing you to squeal in delight. When you settled down, he moved your hand to place it above his heart, “You know I’m no good at chick flick moments, but you can trust me when I say I’m addicted to you too.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies through your stomach and your smile felt invincible. “I hope you know that when I called you a ‘drug’ I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. Some drugs are good for you. Some drugs can save your life,” you whispered as you fisted lightly at the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” Dean was about to retort but you sent him a raised brow and a look that said ‘don’t test me, I’ve got loads more evidence where that came from’ so he simply looked down with a small grin. “Does it still hurt?” You motioned to the white bandage on his shoulder where the werewolf had scratched him up yesterday when he jumped in front of you.

Dean shook his head, “Right now I can hardly feel it. Actually, it hasn’t hurt at all since I kissed you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted some more at his words. “See, that’s what I mean. To me, you’re like coffee on an early morning, morphine when I’m hurting, tranquilizers when I’m freaking out, Zoloft when the world’s got me down, mixed with a shot of ecstasy, and quite possibly the most potent form of Viagra known to mankind.” You might have lingered a moment to chuckle at your own joke, thinking ‘it’s funny cause it’s true’. Dean belted a guffaw himself and you were quite pleased as you continued, “You’re everything I’ve ever needed, all wrapped up in one beautiful, self-loathing man.” You stroked his stubbled jaw and caressed his cheek, letting your words waft softly across the distance between you, hoping he could sense the veracity within them, “And I just want you to let me love you, let me get high on you, so I can show you how good you are. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A wave a sadness flowed through Dean and he lowered his gaze from yours. “This could end bloody.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But it’s so much better than the alternative... It was getting a bit too hard to bear, even if you were only eye fucking all those other suitors. Besides, if it means I get to kiss you whenever I want, it’ll be worth it. And if it means I get a chance to prove to you how worthy you are, then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“I was only staying away because I wanted to protect you from me, but I didn’t realize it was hurting you. I never wanted to cause you pain; Y/N, I need you to know that.” Dean’s warm, calloused palm ran up your arm, it’s gentleness in stark contrast to his fierce tone, while yours continued to cup his cheek.

Astounded by the passion behind his words and the utter beauty of his face, you whispered in awe, “How are you so perfect?” Seeing the cogs begin to turn in his brain, you quickly moved your index finger to press against his plush lips, “Shh, just let me say it. Baby steps, Dean.”

He took your finger and guided your arm to wrap around his wide shoulders, careful of his injury, then reached out to pull you snugly towards him until your bodies were completely flush, your chest heaving against his. “Well do we have to take baby steps with everything? Cause now that I’ve finally got you in my bed, I was kinda hoping you’d let me take you for a spin in it. Maybe find out if it’s really – how did you put it again? – ‘mind blowing as fuck’ I believe were your words?” That signature smirk of his that always brought you to your knees came out to play.

Your laughter fanned across his face, and the smile on your face was effervescent, “You really are one hell of a drug, Dean Winchester.”

thank you for reading! as always, feedback is marvelously appreciated!

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icantbelieveitsnotcanon · 3 years

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Deancas wedding guest headcanons—

Guests aren’t “sent” invitations so much as they “demand” invitations (bc you know word gets around pretty quickly)

Random demon #219 demands an invitation because “I once told Castiel he and Dean were ‘joined at the everything,’ I practically pushed them together.”

Alfie just keeps looking sad until Castiel not only invites him but makes sure he’s seated at the front.

Chuck is the only one who shipped Dean and Cas who was conspicuously not invited. Gabriel makes sure he knows it’s happening, though.

Dean originally asked Sam to officiate because he’s all book smart and such, but Rowena strolls in and tells Sam he’s in her spot. And (john mulaney voice) it’s the deancas wedding—things are already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen.

Sam, still at the altar but now as best man, starts crying within the first minute of the ceremony, so that was a good call, Rowena.

John Winchester was invited because Dean secretly wanted him there, but he’s the first and only guest to be kicked out for trying to stab another guest.

Jack is there: dutiful son on the outside, god and the cosmic bouncer on the inside

Crowley, bitter and lonely ex, was the one who goaded John into trying to stab him.

In a corner, a roundtable of angels and demons draws a small audience as they try to one-up each other with stories about who was first to notice just how hot Dean and Cas were for each other. Balthazar moderates (a terrible choice).

Meg definitely takes that as an opportunity to tease Dean that she kissed Cas like 13 years before he did. He tells her to blow him, but she winks and says that’s Cas’s job now.

Hannah and Crowley try to get drunk at the bar and end up lamenting being unable to get drunk at the bar.

Claire and Kaia are two shots away from ganking all the demons in attendance at all times, but as the groom’s daughter and daughter-in-law, they are never unnoticed long enough to do it.

Donna is the wildcard who gets drunk and makes out with Crowley behind the bar.

Gabriel comes in swinging on a Chuck piñata.

Ash, Kevin and Charlie become best friends over karaoke, bonding over being geniuses.

Jack is the one who didn’t forget to invite Adam.

Sam and Eileen can only be found on the dance floor

Mary keeps trying to find a quiet moment to tell Dean how proud she is of him (this takes a while)

Metatron makes a toast. Nobody wants him to make a toast, but he does anyway, and it’s actually kind of touching.

Metatron ends his toast by announcing that Gabriel, who bet “those two chuckleheads won’t get their heads out of their asses until they’re both dead for good,” won the office pool. This is less touching.

Ellen and Jody watch the chaos, drink moderately, and bond over how much mothering everyone around them needs.

(How these people are all there even though half are in hell, purgatory, the empty, or earth)

#castiel #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #destiel wedding #deancas wedding #spn season 16 #back on my bullshit #jk i never left #look it’s either this or i refresh the impeachment news every 30 seconds okay

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winchesterbrotherstan · 3 years

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SPN- What Is And What Should Never Be (v.2) (2.20)

this edit is simply... so good and i cannot put my finger on why

Pairing: Olive Winchester (sister OC)

Summary: After Dean splits off on a hunt, he wakes up in a world different from his own. Olive goes to find him and wakes up in the same place. With a Sam that is definitively not theirs, they try to set the record straight.

Warnings: blood, cursing, knives, cursing

Word Count: 8170

“Yeah?”

“De, there’s a cop car outside.”

“You think it’s for us?”

“We don’t know.” Sam rolled his eyes. “That’s why we’re calling you.”

“I don’t see how.” Dean hummed. “We ditched the plates, the credit cards.”

I peered back out through the window. “Oh, it’s leaving.”

“False alarm.” Sam sighed.

“Well, see. Nothing to worry about.” Dean chuckled.

“Yeah, being fugitives?” Sam snorted. “Fucking dance party.”

“Hey man, chicks dig the danger vibe.”

I rolled my eyes, and Sam sighed. “You got anything yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Dean scoffed. “You’ve got me sifting through like fifty square miles of real estate here.”

I looked down over the books. We were hunting a djinn, a demon. I flipped through Dad’s journal, glancing over at the phone with a shrug.

“Well, it’s where all the victims disappeared.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got jack shit. You guys?”

“Just one thing, we’re pretty sure of it now.” Sam pulled the book in his lap closer.

“We’re hunting a djinn.” I dropped onto the bed, landing on my stomach.

“A fucking genie?”

“Yeah.” I laughed. “Like Aladdin.”

“You guys really think these suckers can grant wishes?”

“No clue. I guess they’re powerful enough.” I pushed myself up on elbows and shrugged.

“Not exactly like Barbara Eden. I mean, those harem pants. I mean, djinn have been around for centuries.”

“Yeah, they’re all over the Koran, De.”

“My god…” Dean mumbled. “Barbara Eden was hot, wasn’t she? Way hotter than that Bewitched chick.”

“Dean, are you even listening to us?”

Dean cleared his throat on the other end of the line. “Uh, yeah. So, where do djinns layer up?”

“Ruins, usually.”

“Ruins?” I rolled my eyes at Sam. “Look for an abandoned warehouse or something like that. Bigger the better, more places for them to hide.”

“You know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I’ll go check it out.”

“Dean, no, no, no!”

“De, come pick us up first!”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s nothing. I just wanna take a look around.” The call ended.

I dropped my head onto the bed, and Sam shut his phone with a sigh. Jinx’s head perked to the side, and she let out a whine.

“Which are your top five?” I rolled back onto my feet.

“What?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“Top five places on the map, Sams.”

“What’re you talking about?” He stood from the bed and joined me at the table.

“Sam, he’s running around there alone. Silver, maybe, but not lamb’s blood. He could get hurt, Sams. We gotta find him.”

Sam ran a hand over his face with a groan. “Alright, here.” He motioned for the marker at the other end of the table.

I handed it over and watched as he went to work.

***

Dean put the car in park and eyed the building ahead of him. He knew his siblings were worried, but he also knew he’d be fine. He flicked the flashlight on and grabbed the knife out of his pocket. He slipped in through the gap in the gated door. He stalked through the room. It seemed to be an abandoned office, typewriters and file cabinets littered around the room.

The sound of a dripping pipe caught his attention. He shone his light from wall to wall. The place was empty. He shrugged to himself as he turned, heading back toward his car. He rounded the corner of the hallway and was ambushed.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean hissed as he was slammed against the wall, flashlight falling to the floor and rolling.

He slammed his arm up, knife in hand. The djinn caught him by the wrist, crushing it against the wall. The knife tumbled from Dean’s hand, and he turned his head, facing the djinn. He was tall, and bald, thick blue tattoos curling over the angles of his face. The djinn dropped Dean’s hand, forcing his palm over Dean’s forehead. Dean struggled, trying to pull his face away. A light grew in the djinn’s palm, and Dean’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

***

Dean blinks as the TV screen comes into focus. A black and white monster movie. He stifles a yawn as he sits up, figuring Olive had put it on before dozing off. He glances over his shoulder and freezes. There’s a woman in bed next to him, naked. Looking down, he realizes he too, is shirtless. He picks at the silver cross hanging from his neck.

“What the fuck?” He whispers, easing himself out of the bed.

He finds his clothing in a pile by the nightstand. Scoffing to himself, he gets dressed, fumbling with the green shirt and unfamiliar, unripped, jeans. He stumbles into the next room, which seems to be a living room. He frowns and pulls out his cell, dialing a number.

“Dean?” Olive’s voice rings in his ear.

“Ollie!”

“Uh… what’s, uh… what’s going on?” She doesn’t sound happy to hear him.

He frowns as he begins to pace around the room, still in the dark. “I don’t know. I don’t know where I am.”

Halfway across the country, Olive scrambles out of her room, booking it down the stairs. Sam hears her footsteps and looks up with a frown.

“Bug? What’s up?”

“It’s Dean.” She holds her hand over the phone’s speaker. “He’s saying he doesn’t know where he is.”

Sam sighs, standing from his seat. “Lemme talk to him.”

Olive hands the phone over and crosses her arms over her chest, anxious. Sam gives her a reassuring smile as he pats her head and talks to Dean.

“What happened, Dean?”

“The uh, the djinn. It attacked me.”

“The gin?” Sam repeats, holding back a snort.

“He’s drinking gin?” Olive feels her anxiety ease off as she laughs.

“No, asshat. The djinn. The, the scary creature. Remember? It put its hand on me and then I woke up… next to some hot chick.”

“Who?” Sam laughs, eyes still on Olive. “Carmen?”

“Who?”

“Oh my god.” Olive giggles. “Gimme the phone.” She snatches it back and puts it to her ear as she swipes a cracker off Sam’s plate. “Dean, you’re drunk.” She swallows. “You’re drunk-dialing me.”

“I am not drunk! Quit screwing around.”

Olive rolls her eyes as her older brother scolds her. “Look, man, it’s uh…” She sighs, rolling her eyes again. “It’s late. Sam and I have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, so uh… just get some rest, we’ll see you in the morning.”

She hangs up the phone, leaving Dean frowning in his living room. Sam laughs as he sits back down, shutting his book. Olive looks over it with a grin.

“Man, criminal law.” She lets out a low whistle. “The rate Dean’s going at, you might need to save his ass one day.” She giggles.

Sam lets out another laugh. “God, I hope not.”

Dean grumbles as his next call to Olive is declined. He finds himself in the kitchen, staring at a pile of mail on the counter. He flips through them.

“Carmen Porter?” He winces, seeing the Kansas address.

He finds two more envelopes, addressed to himself, at the same address. He sighs as he puts them down, feeling sick to his stomach. The light flickers on, and Dean turns on his heel, alert.

“Honey? What’re you doing up?” Carmen enters the room, wrapped in a silk robe.

“Hey, Carmen.” Dean’s brain goes a mile a minute. “Carmen.” He nods. “Uh, I just, uh…”

“You can’t sleep, huh?” She teases.

“Yeah.” Dean chuckles smoothly.

She steps toward him, running her hands down his arms. “Well, why don’t you come back to bed and let’s see if I can do anything to help.” She winks.

“Sure.” Dean nods slowly, processing. “Yeah, in a minute.” He shakes his head now. “You, uh, you go ahead.”

Carmen smiles sweetly. “Okay. Don’t stay up too long.”

“I won’t.” Dean agrees.

She pulls him into a warm kiss before sauntering back into the bedroom, leaving the lights on. Dean takes a shaky breath as he circles back into the living room. There are bookshelves lined with pictures. He tilts his head as he looks over them. Himself and Carmen, Carmen alone, on the beach. In the very back, hidden away, there’s a picture of himself holding Olive as a toddler. Her curly hair is blonde, and her eyes are the same shade of green as his. He smiles, proud that they turned out so alike.

“Holy…” He turns again.

This time, his eyes focus on something else. He plucks the black frame off the shelf and blinks, hard. It’s his family. Dad, Mom, Sam, Olive, and him. All alive, all grown up. All there. He takes a step back, and the frame falls from his hand. He leaves it to shatter on the floor as he goes for his jacket, bolting out the door.

On the street, he sees his beloved car. He pats down the pockets of the jacket, sighing with relief when he pulls out the keys. He ducks into the car and starts it, still shaking.

***

Dean’s fist slams against the door. There’s no immediate response, and he rings the doorbell, pressing it twice. His fist comes back to the door, and the porch light turns on. His hand drops to his side as the door opens.

“Mom?” His eyes well with tears, and his voice cracks.

“What are you doing here?” Mary asks softly, still sleep-ridden. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” Dean whispers.

“Well, come inside.” Mary pulls the door further open.

He steps in, twisting to keep his eyes on Mary. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. Mary shuts the door and crosses her arms over her chest, stifling a yawn.

“Carmen just called and said you just… took off all of a sudden?” She frowns.

“Carmen?” Dean blinks, shaking his head. “Right, uh… let me ask you a question. When I was a kid, what did you always tell me when you put me to bed?”

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Just answer the question.” Dean’s tone becomes stern.

“I told you angels were watching over you.”

“I don’t believe it.” Dean lets out a breath as he barrels toward his mother, engulfing her in a hug.

“Honey, you’re scaring me.” Mary pats his back as he steps away. “Now just tell me what’s going on.”

“You don’t think that wishes can… can really?” Dean’s voice falters again.

“What?”

“Forget it.” Dean shakes his head as he hugs her again. “I’m just uh, I’m happy to see you.”

He feels his eyes begin to burn, and he pulls away again, looking down at his mother. “You look beautiful.” He laughs.

“What?” Mary smiles, confused.

Dean clears his throat as he begins to walk around the room, looking at pictures on the walls. “Mom, when I was uh, when I was little… was there ever a fire here?”

“No.” Mary shakes her head. “Never.”

“I could’ve sworn there was.” He whispers, almost to himself. “I guess I was wrong.”

He looks over the pictures, taking them in. Himself, as a teen, posing for the camera, trying to look cool. Himself, again as a teen, with a prom date. Sam, graduation gown on. Dean’s hand goes for another picture frame. It’s John, dressed in a softball uniform and cap, bat up as he smiles for the camera.

“Dad’s on a softball team.” Dean giggles before glancing over his shoulder.

He sees that Mary isn’t laughing, and he clears his throat and tries again.

“Dad’s… Dad’s softball team. It’s, uh… that’s funny to me.”

Mary gives a soft smile as she looks down to the ground. “He loved that stupid team.”

Dean blinks. “Dad’s dead? And the thing that killed him was a…”

“A stroke.” Mary frowns. “He died in his sleep, you know that.”

“That’s great.”

“Excuse me?”

“That-that’s great.” Dean stumbles. “That he went peacefully, I mean. I-it-it sure beats the alternative.”

Mary’s face saddens. “You’ve been drinking.”

“No.” Dean shakes his head. “I haven’t, Mom.”

“I’m just gonna call Carmen and have her come pick you up, okay?” She reaches for the phone on the couch side table.

“Wait, wait!” Dean places his hand over hers. “Don’t do that. Don’t do that, I wanna stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because, I… I miss the place. It’s okay, you, you can go to bed.” He makes his way to the couch and sits, still taking in the room.

Mary walks up to him and places a hand on his cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Dean nods, giving her an encouraging smile. “I think so.”

“Okay.” She bends down, kissing his forehead. “Get some rest.” She begins to walk toward the stairs, glancing at Dean. “I love you.”

He feels a glow in his heart as he smiles. “Me too.”

She disappears up the stairs, and Dean sits back on the couch, eyeing the walls. His focus lands on another picture. Sam and Olive, on Sam’s graduation day. He’s got her on his back, and she’s got the widest smile on her face. He frowns as he looks at it. He’d never seen Olive that happy, not even when she was with him.

***

Dean forces his eyes open as he hears birds tweet outside. He blinks himself into focus, and once more, his eyes land on the pictures on the wall. He sits up, seeing that one picture is the family, wearing matching Christmas sweaters. John’s got a Santa hat on, and he looks happy. Dean rummages through his pockets.

“Hey, I’m not answering you, I probably have a reason. Leave a mess-”

Dean slams the phone shut with a huff.

***

“Well, I don’t think I’ve seen you in my class before.” The professor narrows his eyes.

“You kidding me?” Dean grins. “I love your lectures. You… you make learning fun.” He forces a laugh, and the professor joins in.

“So. What can I do for you?”

Dean leans forward, sucking air in through his teeth. “What can you tell me about djinns?”

***

Dean stands over a desk littered with books as the professor speaks.

“Well, a lot of Muslims believe that the djinn are very real. They’re mentioned in the Koran-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean shakes his head. “I know. Get to the wish part.”

“What about it?” The professor frowns.

“Do you think they could really do it?”

“Um. No.” The professor frowns. “No, I don’t think they can really do it. You understand these are mythic creatures?”

Dean blinks. “Yeah, I know. I-I-I know. But uh, I mean in the stories. You know, say you had a wish. But you never even said it out loud.” He searches for the words. “Like uh, that a loved one never died. Or uh, that something awful never happened.”

“Supposedly, yes. I mean, they have godlike power. They can alter reality however they want. Past, present, future.”

“Why would the djinn do it?” Dean frowns. “What, self defense? Or maybe it’s not really evil…” His mind races.

“Son?” The professor claps a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You been drinking?”

“Everybody keeps asking me that.” Dean huffs. “But uh, no.”

***

Dean keeps his eyes peeled as he flips the impala’s trunk open. He sees magazines, old paper cups, and a dirty rag. He cocks his head as he pulls open the spare tire compartment. Inside of it is, well, a spare tire. He grins.

“Well, who would’ve thought, Baby? We’re civilians.”

He slams the trunk shut, looking back at the building. His smile drops as he notices a girl looking right at him. She’s dressed in a white shirt, skirt, and shoes. She stares at him with cold eyes. Common sense leaves his body as he begins to cross the street, making his way toward her.

A car screeches to a halt, horn blaring. Dean holds his hand out, glancing at the driver in irritation. When he turns back to the building, the girl is gone. His face morphs into a frown as he shakes his head, stumbling back toward his car.

***

“This is the best sandwich ever!” Dean calls through a full mouth.

“Thank you.” Mary chuckles back from the kitchen.

“Hey, uh, I tried to get a hold of Olive and Sam earlier. Where uh, where are they?”

Mary frowns as she sits by his side. “They’ll be here soon.”

“Good.” Dean takes another bite. “I’m dying to see them.”

“Sweetie, I…” She sighs deeply. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’re… hanging out here all of a sudden.” She places her hand on his arm. “But shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Work?” Dean echoes.

“At the garage?”

“Right.” He nods. “The garage. It’s where I work, yeah. No, I, uh, I’ve got the day off.” He snickers to himself. “Good thing.”

He takes another bite of his sandwich and glances out the window. He frowns as he notices how high the grass is. He swallows and turns back to Mary.

“That lawn looks like it could use some mowing.”

“You wanna mow the lawn?” Mary chuckles.

A grin spreads on his face. “You kidding me? I’d love to mow the lawn.”

“Knock yourself out.” Mary leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest. “You’d think you’d never mowed a lawn in your life.”

Dean hums to himself as he thinks about the fact that he, indeed, has never mowed a lawn in his life.

***

Dean sits on the porch steps with a grunt. He enjoyed mowing the lawn, even though he wasn’t very good at it. He even went out of his way to wave at the neighbor taking out his garbage. He takes a sip of his beer and lets out a breath, feeling at peace.

A small blue car rolls up to the curb, parking. Dean’s grin widens.

“I don’t believe it.” He whispers to himself as he shoots to his feet.

He watches as Jessica, Sam, and Olive pile out of the car. He goes straight for Jessica, attacking her with a hug as Olive helps Sam pull the luggage from the trunk.

“Jessica.” Dean’s voice is a squeak.

“Good to see you too, Dean.” Jessica squirms as he laughs. “Can’t breathe though.”

He lets go of her, eyes twinkling as he turns toward Sam and Olive.

“Sammy!” His eyes shoot to his younger sister. “Ollie!” He tries to go for a hug, but she steps back, half hiding behind Sam.

“Hey.” Sam and Olive speak at the same time, in the same confused tone.

“Look at you. You’re with Jessica, it’s… I don’t believe it.” He laughs.

Olive and Sam share a look before the middle Winchester nods. “Yeah.”

“Where’d you guys come from?”

“Uh, we just flew in from Cali-”

“California!” Dean cuts Sam off. “Stanford, huh? Law school, I bet.”

Sam gives an awkward chuckle as Olive nods to the beer in Dean’s hand. “See you started off Mom’s birthday with a bang.” She looks up at Sam. “As usual.”

“Wait…” Dean’s smile drops. “Mom’s birthday… that’s today?”

“Yeah, Dean. That’s today.” Sam scoffs.

“That’s why we’re here, dipshit.” Olive spits. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Dean says nothing as he looks down at his feet.

***

“Alright.” Sam grins. “To Mom.” He raises his glass. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Mom.” Olive’s grin is identical to Sam’s.

Dean bites back a frown as they clink their glasses. He watches as Jessica and Sam kiss. He smiles, but it fades when he sees how Olive’s looking at him. Her green eyes are cold, jaw set in disgust. He shivers, feeling wrong inside. Carmen places a hand on his arm, drawing his attention.

“I was really worried about you last night.”

“Oh, I’m… good. I’m good, really.”

“Okay.” Carmen nods. “What do you say we get you a cheeseburger later?”

“Oh god, yes.” His eyes light up, and she smiles. “How did I end up with such a cool chick?”

She shakes her head. “Just got low standards.”

He laughs, pulling her into a quick kiss.

“Alright, uh, Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom’s birthday.” Sam glances down at Jessica. “You wanna tell em?”

“They’re your family.” Jessica beams.

“Well…” Sam’s smile widens.

“Oh, come here.” Olive leans over her big brother’s lap, pulling Jessica’s left hand into a view.

An engagement ring sits on her finger. Mary lets out a happy laugh and stands.

“Oh my god! That’s so wonderful!” She gets to her feet to pull Jessica into a hug.

Olive, Sam, and Carmen also stand from their seats, exchanging congratulations and hugs. Dean finally stands, watching Olive give Carmen a quick hug before shrinking back into Sam’s side.

“I just wish your dad was here.” Mary strokes Sam’s cheek.

He nods, eyes teary. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Jessica, let me see that ring.” Mary pulls on a happy face as she turns to her.

“Congratulations, Sammy.” Dean gives him a soft smile.

“Thanks.” Sam purses his lips.

“I’m really glad you’re happy.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrow, and Olive shoots Dean a look. They’re both confused by his level of intensity right now. Dean begins to step past them, eyes focusing on something new. Olive smacks Sam’s arm, nodding toward the girl standing in dirty white clothes. Sam’s face morphs into one of confusion, and Dean keeps going.

“Dean?” Olive calls.

He looks at her over his shoulder, and the girl disappears. Olive’s shoulders slump, and her jaw practically drops open. She grabs Sam’s hand, tugging him down so that she can whisper in his ear.

“I think I’ve got a case here.”

Sam lets out a breath as he straightens up, eyes still on Dean. “We can talk about it later, okay?”

She nods, watching as Dean slowly makes his way back to their table.

***

“So, Dean… what was uh, what was all that back at the restaurant?” Sam asks as they file into the house.

“Ah…” Dean fumbles for an answer, avoiding his little sister’s stare. “I-I thought I saw someone. I’m sure it was nothing.”

“Well, I had a lovely birthday. Thank you.” Mary beams. “Good night, everyone.”

“Night, Mom.” Olive goes in for a hug as the rest of the family wishes her a goodnight.

“Well, I’m beat.” Sam huffs. “Ready to turn in?” He asks Jess, who nods in agreement. “Alright. Good night, guys.”

“Wait a second.” Dean’s hand lands on Sam’s shoulder. “Wait a second, come on. It’s not even nine yet. Let’s uh, let’s go have a drink or something.”

“Yeah, maybe another time.” Sam makes an obvious effort to pull Olive away with him.

“Come on, man. Look at us, huh? We both have beautiful women on our arms. Hell, you’re engaged. Let’s go celebrate.” Dean tries again.

The silence that fills the room is awkward. Dean’s eyes flicker between Sam and Olive as they share a look. Sam clears his throat, looking down at the girls. “Uh, can you excuse us? I just wanna talk to Dean for a second.”

“Sure.” Jess nods, placing a hand on Olive’s shoulder. “Come on, girls.”

Olive doesn’t budge, eyes still locked on Sam. His face softens as he turns her way, brushing her hair out of her face.

“It’s okay, bug.” He nods. “Go with them.”

She eases off with a sigh, letting Jessica and Carmen drag her off into the kitchen. Dean frowns as Sam steps past him, into the other side of the living room.

“Come here.” He hisses.

“What?” Dean’s frown remains.

“What’s gotten into you?” Sam scowls.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this whole warm, fuzzy, ecstasy-trip thing.”

“I’m just happy for you, Sammy.” Dean shakes his head, still confused.

“Yeah, right.” Sam snorts. “That’s another thing, since when do you call me Sammy?”

Dean tries to answer, but Sam cuts him off again. “Dean, come on. We don’t talk outside of holidays. Neither do you and Olive.”

“We don’t?” Dean blinks. “Well, we should. I mean, we’re family.”

“We’re family?” Sam bites back a laugh.

“Yeah…” Dean’s frown deepens.

“You know, that’s what you said when you snaked my ATM card. And when you bailed on my graduation. And when you hooked up with Rachel Nave.”

“Who?”

“Uh, my prom date.” Sam purses his lips with a nod. “On prom night.”

“Yeah, that… that does kinda sound like me.” Dean winces. “Well, hey man, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t care, Dean.” Sam scowls. “Look, I can deal with it. Okay? I’m not asking you to change.”

“Sam-”

“Just…” Sam sighs. “Stop trying to be Olive’s friend.”

“What?” Dean’s tone changes.

“Stop trying to be her friend. Dean, she’s terrified of you. She’ll never outright say it, but we all know it.”

“Sam, what are you talking about?” Dean shakes his head, eyes screwed shut.

“Dean, you’re the reason she came with me to California.” Sam scoffs before turning on his heel.

“But we’re family.” Dean stresses.

“Yeah, and we don’t even have anything in common.” Sam barks out a laugh, still walking.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Dean stops him. “Yes we do. Yes we do.” He laughs.

“What?” Sam turns back his way.

“Hunting.”

“Hunting?” Sam repeats. “I’ve never been hunting in my life, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, then we should go sometime. I… I think you’d be great at it.”

Sam shakes his head. “Get some rest.”

He leaves, and Dean stands in the living room, shoulders slumped. His face is in a frown, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hears a floorboard creak and he glances up over his shoulder.

“Dean.” Olive’s voice is sharp. “What do you know about hunting?”

***

“You mean…” Dean sighs, trying to wrap his head around it.

“Yeah, Dean. Monsters are real.” Olive speaks from beside him on the couch.

He sinks into his seat with another sigh. “I know that, dumbass.”

Her jaw clenches, and Dean winces to himself as he remembers what Sam told him. He plucks a beer off the coffee table and holds it out to her.

“Sorry.”

She snatches the bottle and puts it to her lips, flicking through her journal. Dean sighs a third time. His wish came true, but it was like a sick stab to the back. His little brother hated him, his little sister was scared of him, and to make matters worse, she still hunted.

“So… you do this… all by yourself?” Dean frowns, leaning forward.

She nods, taking another sip of her beer. “I mean, Sam knows. He just doesn’t come with me.”

Dean can’t help the scowl forming on his face. “He lets you go out there alone?”

Olive laughs, but stops when she realizes that Dean is being serious. “Okay, first of all, since do you give a shit about me? Secondly, I’m not a kid anymore. I’m seventeen.”

“What do you mean since when do I give a shit about you?” He whispers.

“Dean.” Olive laughs again, shaking her head. “You’ve hated me since the day I was born.”

“But why?” He can’t bring himself to look at her.

“For some reason, you had it in your head that I was Dad’s favorite.” She shrugs. “I don’t know, man.”

He frowns, eyes landing on her journal. “How many people have you saved?”

She snorts. “A lot. Uh, possessed flight, there were about a hundred people. Nine kids, something called a shtriga. Uh, a couple of parents, a rakshasa.” She flips through her journal again. “Look, Dean.” She pauses, licking her lips. “I think there’s something here. The girl you saw at the restaurant…”

“You saw her too?” Dean’s eyes almost pop out of his head.

She nods. “I think it’s a djinn.”

His heart stops, blood running cold.

“Dean?” Olive cranes her neck to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

He sighs. “How do we stop it?”

Olive lets out another laugh, and Dean looks her way, irritated. “What?”

“There’s no we, Dean.” She shakes her head. “I work alone.”

***

Dean sighs as he stands in front of his father’s grave. Olive dipped out on him, in the middle of the night. He knew she was going to hunt, and he knew he couldn’t stop her. Sam ignored his calls, too. He shakes his head as he talks to his dead father.

“Dad, it… it feels like my old life is coming after me again. I mean, Olive hunting… you’re gone. It’s… it’s like it doesn’t want me to be happy.” He bites his lip. “I know what you’d say. The real you. You’d tell me to go hunt that djinn with her. It put me here, it can put me back. My happiness for what could happen to Olive, hunting alone? No contest, right?” Tears begin to well in his eyes. “But why? Why is it our job to save those people? Why do we have to be heroes? What about us, huh?” His shoulders tremble. “What, Mom’s not supposed to live her life? Sammy’s not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad?”

The sky rumbles, and Dean feels a pit start to form in his stomach. He wipes the tears from his face and turns on his heel. He knows what he has to do. He freezes as he spots a figure on his car.

“Hey.”

“Olive?”

She’s sitting on the hood of the impala, arms crossed over her chest. Her stare makes his blood run cold. It’s wrong, so wrong. It’s not her, it can’t be her. He tilts his head.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Ready to come home?” She asks.

“What?”

She scowls. “Ready to go?” She repeats herself.

Dean shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Y-uh, yeah.”

***

Olive rummages through the china cabinet, and Dean looks out the window, thinking. Olive hears the floorboards creak, and she stands, face-to-face with Sam’s baseball bat. Dean catches it, tackling Sam to the ground. He grins.

“That was so easy, I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Dean?” Sam looks to the side. “Olive? What the hell are you guys doing?”

Olive rolls her eyes as she pushes at Dean, helping Sam get to his feet. They stand in the light of the window. Olive gives Sam a look, and he sighs before turning his attention to Dean.

“Well, I was looking for a beer.” Dean taunts.

Olive rolls her eyes again, and Sam scoffs. “What’s the china cabinet?”

“Sammy-”

“That’s Mom’s silver.” Sam gives Olive another look.

“Sam.” Dean warns, sensing the tension.

“What, you… you two broke into the house… to steal Mom’s silver?”

“It’s not what it looks like, Sam. Okay, we didn’t have a choice.” Olive’s voice is stern. “I don’t have any of my shit on me.”

“Really?” Sam scowls at her. “It’s so damn important to you that you’ve gotta steal from your own mother?”

“Hey.” Dean steps between them, holding a hand to Sam’s chest. “Relax. It was my idea.”

Sam shakes his head. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Dean sighs. “I’m sorry we don’t get along. And I wish to hell I could stay and fix it. But I gotta do this. People’s lives depend on it.” He lowers his voice. “Olive’s life depends on it.”

Sam watches in the dim light as Olive crouches, pulling two silver knives from the cabinet. He shakes his head again, glaring right at her. She sighs sadly, tucking herself behind Dean.

“We gotta go.” She tugs on his sleeve, looking down like a child.

Dean nods. “Look, Sam, uh… just. Hey, tell Mom I love her.”

The youngest and oldest Winchester siblings walk out the door, each sparing one last glance at Sam before they go. They get into the impala, and Olive naturally slides into the middle seat as Dean starts it.

The passenger door swings open, and Sam gets in. Olive and Dean both scoff, speaking at the same time.

“Sam, get out of the car.”

“I’m going with you guys.”

“No, you’re just gonna slow us down.” Dean barks.

“Tough.” Sam buckles himself up.

“Sam, this is dangerous. You could get hurt.” Olive tries.

“And so could you. Okay?”

“Sam-”

“Look, whatever stupid thing you guys are about to do, you aren’t doing it alone. End of story.” Sam cuts him off.

Dean sighs. “I don’t understand. Sam, you hate me. Olive, you’re scared of me… why are you both doing this?”

Olive sighs, and Sam shakes his head. “Because you’re still our brother.”

Dean snorts. “Bitch.”

Olive giggles, and Sam frowns. “W… what are you calling me a bitch for?”

“You’re supposed to say jerk.” Dean almost pouts.

“What?”

Olive shakes her head. “Never mind, Dean, just drive.”

***

“What’s in the bag?” Sam sighs as he watches Olive pull it out of her backpack.

She shakes her head, keeping her eyes ahead. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Sam repeats.

“Yeah, she said nothing.” Dean echoes.

“Fine.” Sam snatches the brown paper bag from his sister.

“Sam, I don’t think you wanna do that.” Olive warns him.

“Oh, really?” Sam continues before pulling out a large glass jar.

It’s filled with blood. Sam blinks. “What the fuck is this?”

“Blood.” Olive and Dean respond at the same time.

“Yeah, I can see that it’s blood, guys!” Sam bitches. “What’s it doing in here?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Olive warns him again.

“I really do. I really, really, do.” Sam’s eyes are wide.

“Yeah, well he’s gonna find out sooner or later. We need a silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.”

“Sure, naturally.” Sam nods, lips pursed. “Why?”

“It’s the case I was telling you about, Sam. It’s a djinn. We have to hunt it.”

“Okay, um…” Sam sighs. “Stop the car.”

“Sam, we know how it sounds.”

“Stop the car.” Sam repeats himself.

“Sam, you know it’s the truth.” Olive scowls. “There’s bad things out there. Nightmare things. If we don’t stop them, no one will.”

“Look, I wanna help you, but Olive, you promised me no cases on this trip.”

“Sam-”

“You promised!”

Olive says nothing, looking down at her feet. Sam pulls out his phone, and Dean sighs, rolling his window down. He reaches over Olive’s head and plucks Sam’s phone out of his hand, chucking it out the window. He rolls it back up in silence.

“Dean, that was my phone!”

“We’re not going to rubber rooms, Sammy. We’ve got work to do.”

“What?” Sam scoffs. “I’m just trying to help you! Look, I don’t want either of you getting hurt!”

“What?” Olive laughs cruelly. “You. Protect us?”

Sam frowns as her green eyes shine in the light. “Yeah.”

She shakes her head and flicks on the radio, sinking back into Dean’s side without saying another word.

***

Dean puts the car in park, and Olive sighs. She has her head rested against his shoulder, her feet tucked up in Sam’s lap. She looks up at her oldest brother with a frown.

“Dean?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Did we have a dog?”

He chuckles. “I dunno, I was thinking the same thing though.”

She doesn’t smile, and Dean’s heart begins to break. “De, I can’t tell what’s real and what’s fake anymore.”

“What do you mean?” He frowns.

“Sam and I…” She looks at said brother, who is asleep in the passenger seat. “We went to go look for you. And…”

“The djinn got you?”

“It put its hands on me.” She breathes, shutting her eyes. “I woke up… in Sam’s old apartment. In Stanford. And I wasn’t me.”

“What do you mean?” He pulls back to look at her.

She shakes her head, a sad smile on her face. “I’m human. Entirely human. I can’t turn, I can’t keep myself safe.”

“Olive, did you…”

She nods, tears in her eyes. “I wished I hadn’t let Sam go alone.” Her voice cracks, filled with agony.

He wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “It’s gonna be okay, sweet girl. We’ll figure it out. I promise you.”

Sam shifts from beside them, pushing Olive’s feet off his lap. “Where are we?”

“Well, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Dean chuckles.

Olive gives him a small giggle, but Sam’s face remains stoic. Dean sighs, rolling his eyes. “Illinois.”

“And you two think there’s something in there?” Sam nods toward the abandoned building.

Dean and Olive share a soft look, turning back to Sam. “We know there is.”

***

“See?” Sam scoffs. “There’s nothing here, Dean.”

“Wait.” Olive walks forward, eyes widening when she reaches a glass wall to her right. “We’ve been here.”

Dean nods, and Sam furrows his eyebrows. “Look, Carmen’s gotta be worried sick about you, Dean. Jess and Mom are probably wondering where Olive and I are. Come on, let-let’s just go.”

Something clatters, and Olive holds a hand out as Dean shushes Sam. The middle Winchester’s shoulders drop as realization sets in.

“What the hell was that?”

“Just shut up.” Olive growls.

“Stay behind me. Both of you.” Dean turns his flashlight off and leads them into the next room.

It’s a big one, pallets and crates stacked high. There’s cobwebs all over, and the moonlight creeps in through holes in the ceiling. Dean’s chest tightens, and Olive feels her blood drain as they see bodies hanging from the ceiling. Sam notices blood bags hanging next to the bodies, all dried out. He shudders, stepping closer to Dean.

“De.” Olive whispers, batting at his arm with a shaking hand. “Look, it’s her.”

The brothers turn their heads to the right, seeing the same girl Dean had. Her white clothes are dirtier than before, eyes open but looking close to dead. The blood bag hanging next to her is full, and Sam whines.

“Guys, what’s going on?”

Dean claps a hand over his mouth and drags him to hide, Olive following. The djinn appears from another hallway, walking up behind the girl. She begins to cry, whimpering and shuffling on her toes, which barely reach the ground.

“Where’s my dad?” She cries. “I won’t tell…” She focuses on the djinn. “Don’t. Don’t! Where’s my dad!”

The djinn reaches out, laying a hand on her face. “Sleep.” It commands.

It’s eyes glow a bright blue as her head drops forward, eyes fluttering shut. The djinn goes for the blood, pulling out a straw and taking a drink. Sam gags, and the djinn’s head whips around. Dean and Olive act fast, pulling Sam along to a new place to hide.

The djinn circles around a pile of crates before opting for the stairs, which creak with every move. The siblings watch as it disappears onto the next floor. Olive lets out a sigh once she hears a door shut, and Dean eases his hand off of Sam’s mouth.

“This is real? This is happening?” He pants.

Dean ignores him, looking at Olive. “She didn’t know where she was. She thought she was with her father.”

Olive’s eyes widen, and the color leaves her face. “Dean.”

“Come on.” He holds a hand out to her.

She grabs it, and Sam stays close behind them as they go back to the girl.

“What is that’s what the djinn does?” Dean begins to breath heavily.

“It doesn’t grant you a wish. It just makes you think it has.” Olive’s hand shakes in his.

“Look guys, that thing could come back. Alright? We gotta go.”

They ignore him again as they stumble past the women, looking at the corpses hung by their wrists. Olive whimpers, and Dean stares at a flickering light. In real life, they too, are hung up, blood draining. Dean holds back vomit as his hand tightens around Olive’s.

“Guys, please.” Sam pleads.

“Dean…” Olive’s voice shakes. “What if we’re like her? What if we’re tied up in some place, what if this is all in our heads?”

Dean tugs them back toward the girl, eyes wide. “I mean, it could… maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid. Maybe it just feeds on us… slowly.”

“No.” Sam shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. Okay?”

“What if that’s why we keep seeing her?” Dean shakes his head. “Not a spirit, flashes of reality.” He sighs, looking down at his sister. “We’re taking all of this stuff in, and we can’t snap out of it.”

“Okay, look. You guys are right, I was wrong. You aren’t crazy, but we need to go. Fast.” Sam places a hand on each of their shoulders and starts to pull them away.

Dean keeps Olive in his grip as he pulls away, eyes wide. Sam scowls, confused.

“He’s not real.” Olive whispers.

“What?” Sam scoffs, shoving Dean, then flicking Olive’s forehead. “You feel that? I’m real. This isn’t an acid trip. We have to go or that thing is gonna come down here and kill us. For real. Come on!”

“There’s one way to be sure.” Dean’s jaw sets.

Olive sighs as she pulls out the two knives, handing one to him. Sam’s eyes widen as he takes a step back, hands up.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Old wives’ tale.” Olive starts.

“If you’re about to die in a dream, you wake up.” Dean explains.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Sam shakes his head, furious. “That’s crazy. Alright?”

Dean hums, and Olive shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You two are going to kill yourselves.” Sam starts back toward them.

Olive puts the knife to her neck, and Dean points his own toward his stomach. Sam stops again, hands up.

“Or we’re gonna wake up.”

“One or the other.”

“Okay, this isn’t a dream.” Sam tries to get through to them again. “I’m here, with you guys, now. And you’re about to kill yourselves.”

“No, we’re pretty sure.” Dean shakes his head.

“Like, ninety percent sure. Sure enough.” Olive’s grip on her knife tightens, her hand still in Dean’s.

She looks up at him, and he looks down at her. Tears fill both their eyes as they nod to each other.

“Wait!” Sam shouts.

Mary appears in front of them, walking toward Dean. She’s wearing the same white nightgown she died in. Behind Sam, Carmen appears, and Jessica brushes past Olive’s shoulder.

“Why’d you have to keep digging?” Sam frowns, teary-eyed. “Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone? You guys were happy.”

Mary stands in front of Dean. “Put the knife down, honey.”

“Dean.” Olive whimpers.

“You’re not real.” Tears slip down Dean’s cheeks. “None of it is.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s still better than anything you had.”

“What?” Dean frowns.

“It’s everything you want. We’re a family again. Let’s go home.”

Dean shakes his head, feeling Olive’s fingernails in his skin. “No, I’ll die. The djinn… it’ll drain the life out of me in days. Out of both of us.”

“But here, with us, it’ll feel like years.” She places one hand on Dean’s cheek, and the other under Olive’s chin. “Like a lifetime. I promise.”

Olive and Dean begin to cry harder as Mary’s voice softens, becoming a lullaby. “No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. Dean. Olive. Stay with us.”

Dean leans into her hand, and Olive looks up at him, sobbing quietly.

“Get some rest.” Mary coaxes.

“You don’t have to worry about Sam anymore.” Jessica speaks. “You can watch him live a full life. Olive, you get to stay with him.” She smiles softly.

Olive’s attention is drowned by Sam’s watery puppy-eyes. Carmen replaces Mary in front of Dean, kissing him softly.

“We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, Dean. Please.”

Sam steps up, prying their hands apart. He bends down in front of Olive, a sad smile on his face.

“Haven’t we done enough? Haven’t we given… enough?”

Olive shakes her head. “You’re not Sam.” She tugs her hand back, finding Dean’s once more.

“Please.” Sam looks at Dean. “Put down the knives.”

Olive squeezes Dean’s hand as she shuts her eyes. Dean looks at Sam, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

He sinks the knife into his stomach, and Olive slits her throat, eyes rolling back.

“Dean! Olive!”

My eyes shot open as a warm hand came to my cheek. “Sammy.” I mumbled, feeling my eyes fall shut again.

“No, hey, hey.” Sam shook my head. “No, come on. Olive.” He whined. “Dean.”

Dean let out a soft grunt. Sam turned his attention to him, patting his face.

“Hey. Hey.”

“Auntie Em…” Dean groaned through a laugh. “There’s no place like home.”

“Sammy.” I called again, forcing my eyes to stay open.

“Oh, thank god.” Sam let out a breath. “I thought I lost you guys for a second.” He went for the needle in Dean’s neck before removing mine. “Hang on, okay?” He grabbed my weight in one arm, holding me against himself as he cut at the ropes.

“Sam.” I muttered.

“I know, baby. Just hang on.”

“Sam!” Dean barked.

The djinn snuck up on Sam, and Sam turned, knife in his grip. The djinn put a hand up to Sam’s forehead, and Sam struggled to get away. I tugged at my ropes, feeling like I was going to pass out. Sam grunted, hand wrapped around the djinn’s wrist. A growl ripped through my throat, and my jaw cracked in my head. I felt my claws against my own skin as I tore at the ropes. I tumbled to the ground, feeling my ribs ache.

Sam kicked, sending the knife my way. I clutched it and scrambled to my feet, stumbling toward the djinn. I took a breath before thrusting the knife into it’s back. I twisted it, and the light dimmed from the djinn’s eyes. I pulled the knife back out, and the djinn dropped to the side, dead. Sam struggled to catch his breath, and I held a hand out for him. He took it, and I helped pull him to his feet.

“Help me with Dean.” My voice was weak.

We cut him loose, catching him before he could hit the ground like I had. Dean’s head turned to the side, and his red eyes focused on something. I looked, only to see the girl that had been haunting us. Her eyes moved under her eyelids.

“She’s still alive!” Dean shouted. “Sam.”

I handed Sam the knife as Dean took the needle from her neck. I helped keep her steady, and Dean caught her as she fell.

“I gotcha.” He soothed. “I gotcha, we’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We’ve gotcha.”

***

“Okay, uh, thank you so much for the update.” Sam glanced at me as he spoke on the phone. “Okay.” He nodded. “Bye.” He hung up, tossing his phone onto the table. “That was the hospital. Girl’s been stabilized. Good chance she’s gonna pull through.”

Dean nodded, looking down at a magazine in his hand. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed, sitting down next to me. “How about you two? You alright?”

I nodded, shuffling into his lap. I curled up tightly, resting my head against his neck. He kept his arms tight around me as Dean cleared his throat. Jinx hopped up onto the bed, resting her chin on his leg.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He let out a laugh. “You should’ve seen it, Sam. Our lives. God, you were such a pussy.”

Sam chuckled. “So we didn’t get along then, huh?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think any of us really did.”

“I thought…” Sam shook his head. “I thought it was supposed to… to be this perfect fantasy.”

“It wasn’t.” Dean shrugged. “It was just a wish. I wished for Mom to live. She never died, we never went hunting…”

“I wished I hadn’t let you go off to California alone. But our lives weren’t ours, so it wasn’t the same.” I kept my head against him.

“We just, uh… we never… you know.” Dean sighed.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, running a hand through my hair. “Well, I’m glad we do. And I’m glad you two dug yourselves out. Most people wouldn’t have had the strength.”

“Would’ve just stayed.” I whispered, feeling tears well in my eyes again.

“Yeah, lucky us.” Dean snorted. “I mean… you had Jess. Mom was gonna have grandkids.”

“Yeah, but… Dean, it wasn’t real.” Sam’s voice softened.

“I know. But I wanted to stay.” Dean’s voice cracked.

I looked up, seeing that he, too, was in tears. I nodded. “I wanted to stay too.”

Dean took a shaky breath. “I mean, ever since Dad, all I can… all I can think about is how much this job’s cost us. We’ve lost so much. Sacrificed so much.”

I sniffed, looking up at Sam. “We’ve lost almost everything.”

He sighed, knowing I meant Jess. “But people are alive because of us. It’s worth it, guys. It is. It’s not fair, and…” He shook his head, looking down at me. “It hurts like hell, but… it’s worth it.”

Dean looked at him, then at me. Tears fell down my cheeks as he looked away.

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Alternate Version: What Is And What Should Never Be (v.1) (2.20)

Next Ep: All Hell Breaks Loose (2.21)

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