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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

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In Another Life

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Dean POV

Summary: When Dean wakes up in another life with you, he begins to question your friendship and realizes that he has loved you all along. But how can he change that? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Mutual Pining

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. I’ll say mention of gore, but for one second. Maybe one allusion to sex, but not really. Some swearing (once or twice). Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Dean’s perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. This is my first time writing for Supernatural, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics

Main Masterlist

*********************************************

Dean couldn’t remember what happened last night only that the bed beneath him felt like an old friend welcoming him home. The night before ghosted across his mind, hovering just out of reach, memories of a dream barely forming from a fog of uncertainty. He fades in and out of sleep in a mist that soothes his aching body.

“Dean?” A soft voice whispers.

Dean groans and squeezes his pillow tighter against his chest to avoid waking up. He didn’t care what time it was, all he knew was that he didn’t want to get out of bed.

“Leave me alone Sammy.” He grumbles into the pillow.

“Dean.” The voice says again, this time with a happy laugh that sounds nothing like Sam.

His eyes open, blinded by the sunlight that streams through the large windows on the other side of the bedroom.

Wait. Where am I?

“Dean we have to get up or we’ll be late for the party.”

Dean looks towards the voice and realizes that he’s not squeezing a pillow, it’s you. You’re facing him, hair fanning out over the pillow beneath your head, eyes wide and crinkled around the edges, smiling at him.

“Y/n?” Dean says it hesitantly, arms tightening around your waist.

“No no no. Don’t look at me like that. I will not be roped into staying in bed. We can’t be late for your mom’s birthday party and you promised you would come with me to pick up the cake.”

“But-“ Dean couldn’t remember how he got here, only that something feels wrong.

“No buts.” You giggle, before leaning forward and kissing him.

Dean freezes, confused, but the soft movement of your mouth against his erases any uncertainty. He eases his face forward nudging his nose into yours to deepen the kiss. Dean doesn’t know how he got here, but all he knows is how natural it feels to be here with you. Before he can stop himself he rolls you over your back, bringing a moan from you that vibrates though his skull. His fingertips blaze a trail along your hips.

“Easy there tiger.” You smile up at him. “You don’t want to crush Zeppelin.”

Dean’s confusion makes you laugh, before he finally looks down between you. “You’re pregnant.” He whispers, noting the protrusion of your abdomen.

“I mean I think so.” You laugh in a way that makes his heart jump and buckle.

Dean lays his hand down on the smooth skin where your shirt pushes up. Why can’t I remember this? He thinks to himself confused, searching for memories he can’t recall.

“I believe we’ve talked about it several times. And it was you who decided to stay up until 4 am painting the nursery.” Your hands gently brush his hair back out of his face. “You did such a good job baby.”

Dean reaches for the memory, but he can’t seem to

grasp it. “I did?”

“Mhmm. Look at you, you’re still covered in paint.” You smile wider picking up the hand that rests on your belly to show him the splashes of cream colored paint flecked along the back of his hand. And as you do he notices the ring on your left hand.

“Are we married?” Dean tries again to grasp for his memory but comes up empty handed. He strokes his thumb along the back of yours examining the ring.

I should remember that. How could I forget that we’re married?

“Feigning amnesia will not make me stay in bed with you. No matter how cute you are.” You gently lay your hand against his chest pushing him back so you can sit up in bed.

Dean can’t help but notice how beautiful and carefree you look. Hair catching fire in the light from the window, t-shirt brushing against the top of your thighs, and how you smile at him with so much love it makes something catch in his chest.

“Dean?” You suddenly look worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m just tired I guess.”

His cell phone rings where it sits on the nightstand, drawing his gaze to the alarm clock and car magazine that sit on top of the dark wood.

“You better answer that. It’s probably Sam asking us where we are.” You kiss him on the cheek, before standing up and walking into the closet on the edge of the bedroom.

Dean watches you go, his eyes tracing your familiar figure as you leave the room, before reaching for his phone.

“Hey where are you guys? Jessica’s freaking out because you haven’t brought the cake.” Sam’s voice triggers another memory for Dean, but this one remains allusive.

“Sam?”

“Dean.”

“Um.”

“Dean are you hungover or something?”

“No. Sorry, just running a little late-“ Dean apologizes looking around the bedroom. It’s small, filled with light from the open window that shows a quaint backyard. The dresser on the wall opposite the bed has photos of him and you, photos of Sam and Jessica, and a photo of Mary and John Winchester. Dean’s eyes stop on the photo as a memory triggers at the back of his mind, but Sam interrupts the thought.

“Well come on. Dad’s not going to like it if you guys miss mom’s birthday-“

“Dad?” Deans memory spikes again and he sees his father sitting in the drivers seat humming along to a song on the radio. Another memory flashes, Dean and his father standing behind the impala with Sam looking into the trunk.

“Yes dad. Your boss. Our father. Dean are you okay? Y/n said that you were painting the nursery last night all by yourself. You could have told me. I would have come over to help-“

“I’m alright Sammy.”

But he doesn’t feel alright, something is definitely wrong.

“Okay well hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Dean hangs up the phone and sits on the end of the bed with it in his hand.

You walk back into the room wearing a green sundress. Your hair is soft again, falling over your shoulders in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, effortlessly beautiful.

A memory of you wearing jeans and a leather jacket washes across his mind of you standing with him at the back of the Impala reaching in for a shotgun while he knocks your hand away.

“Dean?” You walk towards him, this time standing between his legs. You place your hands on his shoulders and he can’t help but turn to look at the wedding ring. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go today. I can call your dad. But I just thought your really wanted to go. You hate missing your mother’s birthday. It’s usually you that drags me out of bed.” You trail your hand against the side of his face with a worried expression, to turn his gaze back on you.

Someone deep in the back of his mind the expression triggers something and he sees a memory of you. Except you’re holding a machete in your right hand that drips blood on the floor but, the look of worry in your eyes the same.

Where could that be from?

“I don’t know.”

“Hey.” You whisper, sitting down in his lap and his arms can’t help but secure you there, burying his head in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m scared too.”

“What?” Dean raises his head from your shoulder

“We’ve talked about this. You’re going to be a great dad. And honestly we probably won’t know what we’re doing, but that’s how everyone starts.” Your fingertips drag through his hair in a soothing motion.

Dean tries again to grasp at earlier memories of this life, early memories of you, but all he sees are motel rooms. Motel rooms where you sleep on a pullout couch in a corner and where Sam sits at a small table shuffling through endless books and papers.

Why?

Dean can’t understand, because that life seems so different than this one. This one where you look softer and happier, where you share a bed and are married. He thinks about the other memories, where your smile is not as bright, where there’s a hardness to your face, but still just as beautiful. Another memory of him and you sitting in a bar drinking beer, another of you laughing at something he said and hitting him, and finally one of you reading in bed while Dean sits at a motel table and watches you softly turn the pages.

Deep down Dean knows in his bones that in those memories you and him are just friends, but he allows himself to indulge in your touch, enjoying the comfort that comes with being with you.

“It’s not about the baby.” Dean sighs. “I just can’t remember how we got here.”

“Here?”

“Married.” His arms tighten around your waist not wanting to let go. You’re the only thing he recognizes in all of this.

“Um well, my car broke down and I brought it to a mechanic shop where I met a devilishly handsome man with green eyes.” You smile at him. “Who refused to let me leave until he bought me dinner.”

Dean stares at you.

“Practically kidnapped me. But you were so charming I couldn’t resist.” You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Not to mention sexy covered in grease and wearing a meatloaf t-shirt.” You kiss him before he can respond, and he loses himself in you. The way you hold him close, the way your fingers work up into his hair to secure him right where he wants to be, and the way you feel in his arms wipes away any uncertainty. “As much as I’d like to go back to bed with you, we’re going to be late.” You whisper against his lips.

And Dean allows himself to be dragged away.

*********************************************

“Did you remember to order the parts for that ‘76 Camaro right?” John Winchester asks Dean, but Dean’s not focused, he can’t focus on anything.

The drive over to his parents house was different. Instead of sitting on the opposite side of the front seat of the impala, you had sat in the middle, holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder, humming softly.

It made driving for Dean especially difficult. The memories of you in his car that came across his mind while he drove distracted him.

You in the backseat shouting something at Dean while he completely ignored you rolling his eyes, you sitting in the front seat with a map trying to direct him while Sam slept in the back, you singing to “The Eye of the Tiger” with him while Sam tried to close his ears, and finally you asleep in the front seat with Dean’s jacket draped over you. That last one stayed in his mind. He liked how you looked wrapped up in his jacket, breath fogging the glass window, while Dean tried his best to drive smooth and slow so you wouldn't wake.

But you in the front seat holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder while humming along to the music blew all of those memories out of the water. All Dean wanted to do was exist there and then.

When you both arrived at his parents home Dean tried not to be disappointed. Now he was too distracted watching you talk and laugh with Jessica and his mother across the room to listen to anything his father said.

“Dean are you listening?” His dad tries again.

“Huh?” The cold beer in Dean’s hand drips condensation against his skin. He turns to look back at his father.

Another memory of him momentarily distracts Dean, this one of John leaving Dean and Sam in a motel room so he can go hunting.

Did we ever go hunting? Dean tries to think of a time where they went out into the woods to shoot some deer, but comes up empty handed. A few memories of him and Sam toting guns rise to the surface, but he can't remember why they had them.

"You'll have to excuse Dean, he's still mentally painting the nursery." Sam snorts into his beer.

"Shut up."

"Don't tease him Sam. I'm sure that Jessica will have you turn your office into a nursery before you know it." You appear on Dean's left, raising his arm around you so you can lean into his side. Dean automatically tightens his arm around your shoulders.

"Don't joke about that y/n."

"Uh-huh. You can't hide in that big fancy law firm forever. She'll find you." You smile up at Dean in a way that makes his heart feel like its stopped beating.

Why can't I remember any of this life?

"She's right." Jessica comes over to kiss Sam on the cheek.

"I do not hide at the firm-" Sam rolls his eyes.

"You do."

Mary Winchester comes over. "Are you fighting at my birthday party?"

Dean's father puts his arm around his mother, pulling her into his chest with a smile he hides by taking a swig of beer.

"No mom, we're not-"

"Sounded like a fight to me." You whisper to Dean, and he can't help but smile at you.

"It's not a fight y/n!"

"Don't yell at my wife Sammy." Dean says before he can stop himself. He thinks about how natural it sounded coming out of his mouth.

His wife. You're his wife. He thinks and presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you sigh into his chest.

"I'm not yelling at y/n."

"Sam we're just teasing you." Jessica laughs, placing her hand against his chest. Dean notices the ring on her own finger, and a memory of Jessica rises in the back of his head. Jessica standing in the darkness of an apartment, while Dean holds on to the front of Sam's shirt, her eyes wide and confused.

But it vanishes when you wince in his arms. Dean's eyes are drawn back down to you, worry spiking in his chest.

"I'm okay." You whisper. "Just think Zeppelin is hitting his limit."

"You guys go on home. I think that John has grilled Dean about the garage enough." Mary smiles, before taking a step forward to hug you. Dean is disappointed when you leave his arms, but smiles despite, watching you with his mother.

"Let the little linebacker get some rest." John hugs you.

"Of course. Thank you so much for letting us come. I'm sorry we were late." Dean watches the subtle blush of your cheeks as you apologize.

"I'm sure it's my son's fault." Mary moves to hug Dean.

As soon as she does Dean is overwhelmed by a surge of sadness as another memory of his mother rises in the back of his mind that he can't quite bring into focus.

"Mom?" Dean whispers.

"Hmm?" She looks up at him confused. "We'll see you on Tuesday for dinner. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We love you."

"I love you too mom." But something sticks in his chest when he says it.

“Don’t forget to order the parts.” John says shaking Dean’s hand.

“Sure.”

“Bye Jessica. Let me know if you need us to bring anything for Tuesday.” Dean watches you hug her and just for a moment Dean sees Sam holding a bouquet of flowers at a gravesite.

What is happening?

*********************************************

When Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of your home something still feels wrong. After saying goodbye to everyone he still can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something. The radio plays "Black Dog" filling the silence as the car idles in front of the house.

“Dean!”

“What?” He turns to look at where you sit beside him in the front seat.

“Feel.” You grab one of his hands from the wheel and place it against your abdomen an excited smile gracing your cheeks. “Little future drummer."

The kicking against the palm of his hand makes Dean smile, leaning forward into where you sit beside him. Happiness breaks in his chest like the crest of a wave. He can't remember a moment in his life where he felt this happy, this much love for someone.

"Y/n?"

"Mhmm."

"I love you." Dean refuses to believe that he has said it to anyone else ever in his life, can't remember wanting to say it to anyone else, can't believe that he will ever want to say it to anyone else.

"I love you too."

He leans down to kiss you, hand still against your stomach, drawing you further into him to breathe you in. Everything else vanishes, just the feel of your soft lips against his, the tickle of your hair against his cheeks, and the pulse of his son's kicks against the palm of his hand.

But then it's all gone.

*********************************************

"Dean!" Sam's voice jars him into reality, his eyes opening to see his brother standing over him, one hand on his shoulder. "Dean are you okay?"

"What happened?" Dean sits up with a groan, ignoring the headache that throbs behind his eyes.

His eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in a long room where wooden tables sit every few feet covered in dust and machinery blanketed with old sheets. The musty smell fills his nose, replacing the smell of your shampoo that lingers under his nose from when you were in the front seat with him.

"Djinn ambushed you. Y/n and I got here as soon as we could."

"Y/n?" The memories of the dream strike him in the chest all over again, merging with memories of reality. "Where is Y/n?"

You enter the room out of breath, blood flecked across your cheeks and holding a baseball bat that drips a dark liquid onto the concrete floor. “It’s dead.”

"You sure?" Sam asks raising an eyebrow.

"There's enough brain matter on the floor in there for a zombie buffet." You shoulder the baseball bat. "So yeah, it's dead."

Dean’s eyes trace your body taking in the leather jacket and dark t-shirt his memory flashing to the green sundress and beautiful smile. You’re half-smiling, but Dean can see the hardness in your face again and understands where it comes from.

She wasn’t a hunter. He thinks of the dream version of you, where your hair fell in soft curls, but now it’s tied back in a ponytail. His eyes drop to your abdomen expecting more, but disappointment flicks in his heart. It wasn’t real.

“Dean are you okay?” You step closer to him. The smile has dropped now, replaced with a worried expression.

He flashes back to when you asked him that in the dream, when you sat on his lap and tangled your hands in his hair, sighing into his mouth as he kissed you.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He traces your face again but every time he does he only sees the other version of you, the version that’s in love with him, married to him. And he knows that here you are just his friend.

“Yeah.” He says again standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”

The ride back to the motel is silent. Dean doesn’t put on any music, too afraid that it’ll remind him of the memory of you and him in the front seat while his son kicked against his hand. Instead, all he can think of was how happy he was in the other life, how in love with you he was-

Dean knew that it wasn’t just a fantasy, that he really is in love with you, but now after seeing how everything could be, it weighed on his chest. Each time you looked at him he wanted to pull you close to him, hug you, kiss you, but he knew you would pull away. Because this version of you was not his.

“I’m going to go to that diner on the corner. You guys want something?” Sam looks around the room expectantly, but Dean doesn’t look up from the carpet.

“Sure.” Dean hears you respond. “Maybe just a burger and a piece of pie. Preferably apple but I'll take cherry if they have it."

“Okay. Dean?” Sam asks again.

Dean shakes his head. He can’t eat. Not now.

Sam hesitates at the door worried. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want anything.” Dean snaps.

“Yeesh don’t bite my head off.” Sam throws you a shrug before leaving.

Dean is aware that it’s just the two of you now, the memory of the two of you in bed surfaces making him tighten his grip on the edge of the blanket beneath him.

“Dean?” You whisper.

“What?” His voice comes out harsher than he means it to.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong.” But he can’t look at you, not when he knows he'll look up and you won't be pregnant and not when the other version of you still has a hold of his heart.

“Dean you’re my best friend I know when something’s wrong. Plus you haven’t been able to look at me since you woke up and you never say no to food.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dean-“

“Just leave me alone damnit!” He snaps at you, able to raise his gaze from the floor for one second. Dean immediately feels bad, watching the pain in your eyes as he pushes you away. But he lowers his eyes to the carpet once more to avoid your gaze.

You sigh, but don’t get angry with him. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I'll just leave you alone then.”

And as soon as you leave to take a shower he feels the loss of you beside him.

He listens to the sound of the shower, feels the passing of time, but he does not move. The memories of the dream rise and fall, replacing the darkness of the hotel room with brilliant light. The memory of the sun catching your hair on fire as you laid next to him in bed tracing your fingertips along his jaw, the memory of you in the front seat of the Impala leaning against him and humming while you hold his hand, the memory of the party where he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tightly into his chest, and finally the memory of the last kiss you shared in the front seat of the Impala each dance across his mind. He acutely feels the loss of your body against his, the loss of your lips, and finally the sound of your voice telling him you love him while his son kicked against his hand.

“Dean?”

He looks up at you. You look softer than you did. The blood is gone from your cheeks, your hair falls over your shoulders still wet from the shower, effortlessly beautiful, he decides. You’re wearing one of his old t-shirts that he gave you and a pair of sweatpants. It does something to him, watching you stand there in his shirt. It hangs past your waist like a dress, making you look smaller than you are. The smell of your shampoo wafts out of the bathroom, something familiar that makes his throat tight.

“You know when that Djinn got me a few months ago it threw me for a loop too.” You say softly leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “Everything felt so real. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.”

Dean remembers when that happened. When you vanished out of the blue while checking out a case alone and he and Sam tore apart the small town looking for you. Dean remembers how worried he was, how desperate he was to find you.

I loved her then too. Dean realizes looking at you. How did I not know?

Dean remembers the aftermath, when you woke up and wouldn’t look at him. How your gaze was almost haunted and how he had to carry you out of there because you couldn’t move. He remembers you laying in bed and turning away from him and Sam when they had asked you what was wrong and the following day when you acted like nothing happened.

“What did it make you see?” Dean whispers, noting the way you shift back and forth on your feet. He hadn't seen you nervous before, seen you face down demons and vampires without batting an eye, but now you looked vulnerable.

You look down at your feet. “If I say it you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Dean, I’m serious.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” He watches the tension in your shoulders.

Why would she be afraid to tell me? We talk about everything.

“It was us.”

“What?” Shock tugs at his heart and for a second he thinks that he heard you wrong.

“It was us. We were married. We had 2 kids. My brother was still alive and my parents were talking to me again. I was happy there. It was hard to come back. Not that I’m not happy, but just that it’s hard to think you’ve lived a life that doesn’t exist. Especially one so different than all of this.” Dean watches you take in a deep breath, tapping your finger against your bicep, avoiding his eyes. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.”

Dean’s heart stops beating. “What did you just say-“

You look up and smile tightly. “It’s when I realized I was in love with you. That’s why I was so messed up. I didn't know how to-“

Sam chooses that exact moment to walk in loaded with bags of food. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much.” Dean watches you easily shift your expression to hide what just happened, smiling at Sam as if you hadn’t said the one thing that Dean had been trying to say to you since he woke up. “Just trying to convince Dean to let me work on Baby. I think I’m wearing him down.”

Dean had never realized how much of a good liar you were until this moment, sure he had seen you pretend to be a government agent, but this was different.

“Like that’ll happen.” Sam hands you a bag of food before turning to look at Dean. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean watches you pull out the burger, stunned by your confession.

You place the burger next to him on the bed. “Eat this. It’ll help.”

“But-“ He looks up at you, wanting to finish the conversation.

“I promise I’m not that hungry Dean. I’d rather have the pie. Unless you’re going to fight me for it?” You smile raising an eyebrow.

Dean doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you didn’t just say you were in love with him. He gazes at you, searching your face. For a second he sees the mask slip, but before he can comment it’s gone.

“No I won’t.” He whispers.

“Good.” You turn to the made-up pull out couch and fold your legs underneath you with the slice of pie balanced on your knee, before reaching into your bag for a worn paper back.

Dean sits there watching you turn the pages. She loves me. The memory of you in his dream in the front seat of the Impala whispering it to him doesn’t hold the same weight because now all he can hear is you saying it here, now.

Dean can’t move. He wished Sam would leave again. He wished Sam would leave so he could bring you into his chest and kiss you, so he could tell you the one thing he wished he said ages ago.

But he doesn't. All he does is sit there and watch you read.

*********************************************

A few hours after Sam and you have fallen asleep Dean lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear your soft breaths against the pillow, the crinkle of the sheets as you move in your sleep. Usually he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to you, but tonight all it did was keep him awake. Each time he shut his eyes he saw the memory of you in bed with him burning against his eyelids and each time he shut his eyes he heard the real you telling him that you loved him.

Finally, he can't take it anymore.

Dean gets up and makes his way over to the pull-out couch, pausing once to move the paperback book out from under your head. It wasn't the first time that you'd fallen asleep reading, and Dean thought it was cute.

He slides into the bed behind you, gently touching your shoulder to wake you as quietly as possible.

"Hmm." You inhale softly.

"Y/n." Dean whispers.

He watches you turn towards him, eyes blinking in the darkness to rouse yourself from sleep. You hair is flared out over the pillows, eyes hazy. “Dean what are you-“

Dean moves his arm to your waist before pulling you flush into his chest, lips finding yours. The memories of the kiss in his dream are everywhere, but none of them compare to this. You sigh into his mouth, bringing your hands into his hair. Dean breathes you in. You still taste like apple pie, body soft against his, lips smooth and welcoming.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your mouth, eyes finding yours in the darkness of the hotel room.

Your smile breaks him. “It made you see us didn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“The way you looked when you came out. The way you looked at me. I think it’s the same way I looked at you when I woke up." You brush back his hair and Dean can't help but lean forward into your touch. "What did it make you see?"

“We were married. You were pregnant and I was working at a garage. My parents were alive. Jessica was alive-“

“Oh Dean.” You cup his cheeks with a sorrowful expression, before brushing your lips against his. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Dean brings you into his chest, laying on his back so you can rest your head on his heart. His hand slowly traces up and down your spine. You both lie there for a few moments. The subtle beat of your heart soothing the sadness that rises with the memory of his mother and father. Your hand gently rests against his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric.

“I missed you.” He hears you whisper into his chest.

“What?” Dean doesn't understand. "Where did I go?"

“Not like that. I know that it sounds stupid, but we were so happy in the dream. It made me miss you, miss this.” He feels you rub your face into the front of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Dean you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose any of this.” You prop yourself up look him in the eye. “I’m happy here with you and Sam. Y’all are my family and I didn’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m in love with you.”

“Did you think I would have made you leave if you told me that?” Dean can’t help but feel hurt. Sure it would have been awkward for a little bit, but I’d never do that to y/n.

“Not made me leave, more phase me out. It would have made all of this awkward and-“ He watches the weight settle on your shoulders as you press your forehead into the space between his collar bone and neck. “I’ve lost so many things. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Dean squeezes you to him. “You’re not going to lose me sweetheart.” He traces a fingertip under your chin to raise your face to his. “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you’re my family too. I wouldn’t make you leave just because it was a little awkward. We’ve all been through too much together for that.” Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles against your cheek.

“I love you too.” You whisper, the soft smile gracing your lips mirrors the memory from the dream, but this time it fills him with warmth and comfort, because this time he knows it’s real. It's not some Djinn messing with his head, it's you. You lean upwards to kiss him gently, while Dean weaves his hand through you hair to secure you to him.

But then you pull away, your smile slipping into a smirk. “So when you say family, are you saying you see me as a sister or a cousin? Because, I don’t know how things are in Kansas, but where I'm from, that's kind of a red flag.“

Dean sighs loudly. Before he rolls you over and pins you to the bed, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Oh. So as a sister-“ You joke.

“You are one of the most annoying people on the planet.”

“I know. It’s why you love me.” You trace his lips with your index finger, gazing up at him the same way the dream version of you did.

Dean feels warmth trail behind your touch. “One of the reasons at least.”

But just as he leans to kiss you again-

“If you guys don’t shut up I’m not going to get any sleep.” Sam grumbles from his bed. “I could have told you two idiots, that you loved one another and it would have taken five seconds.”

“You don’t have to eavesdrop-“ You say glaring over in the direction of Sam’s bed.

“Kinda hard not to when you guys are making out. LOUDLY. I might add.”

“Gonna have to get used to it Sammy.” Dean snorts, before pushing your hair back behind your ear and drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Next time you guys are getting your own room.” Sam continues. “That way I can get some sleep.”

“Doesn’t seem very economical.” You say, but you’re gazing up at Dean again with the smile that makes him feel like he’d swallowed the sun. “I love you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“I love you too.” Dean leans down once more to capture your lips against his, erasing all semblance of everything else, except the feel of your body beneath him and the warmth that surges with each breath as the dream of you becomes a reality.

*********************************************

Thank you so much for reading!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #sam winchester

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intricatedemonicrituals · 8 months

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Canon Destiel Timeline Masterpost

I wrote this all in a fugue state while listening to Green Grow the Lilacs on repeat so forgive any mistakes. @gay-fae ask and ye shall receive

So much has happened in the long and storied history of his fandom so I've decided to try to document it. I've started by looking up every time that canon destiel, destiel event, misha collins, jackles, or some other search terms have spiked on Google and cross referenced them with tumblr or twitter posts from that day. I know a lot of this is Misha stuff, but he does tend to be the one to say things

November 5th, 2020: Season 15, Episode 18 "Despair" airs and Castiel declares his love to Dean. The presidential election, Georgia turning blue, the presumed retirement of Vladamir Putin, Dabi from My Hero Academia, Ouran Host Club season 2, Sherlock season 5, the president of Bolivia being attacked with dynamite, ongoing BLM protests, a twitter artist making racist art of Ted Bundy, Hetalia returning, a dead man being elected Representative for North Dakota, V for Vendetta, scientists discovering a "hell" planet that rains rocks and has lava oceans, and half of Europe being in lockdown all became tumblr news around the same time. Some of these are true, some not.

November 8th, 2020: Misha Collins, in a panel with Richard Speight, states that the confession scene was a "declaration of homosexual love", and that when Castiel goes to the Empty, it is an example of the "Kill your gays" trope.

November 19th, 2020: The finale airs and it is not well loved to say the least. The episode is short, Dean dies by falling on a nail to death fighting vampire clowns, and there are several characters left with dangling unresolved plot threads and arcs, including Castiel. The car is in heaven though. There is very little heard from the cast and crew, if anything.

November 22nd, 2020: Misha Collins, in a livestream, tells a fan that Castiel and Jack are remaking heaven together, Cas has his wings back, and they are rainbow-colored. He had, however, mentioned the rainbow wings before.

November 24th, 2020: The Spanish dub of the confession is released and a "rogue" translator has written "Y yo a ti" or "I love you too" as Dean's response. Destiel goes canon in Spanish. Tumblr stops working as a result.

November 25th, 2020: tumblr user @thebloggerbloggerfun claims Jensen Ackles said "I had a member of the film crew record the confession scene on my phone for me" #unsourced #releasethetapes

November 26th, 2020: Misha doesn't appreciate the rogue translator, but walks that opinion back later the same day

November 27th, 2020: A "leaked" Italian dub of the confession scene shows a mutual confession.

November 28th, 2020: President Obama follows a destiel account on Twitter

November 30th, 2020: The supposed "Italian dub" is revealed as a fake created by user @iotiamo using sound clips from other parts of the Italian dub on show.

December 1st, 2020: Twitter user @mothdean says "misha I know you have a stan acc and spy on us so can we have a hazel update please"

December 3rd, 2020: Misha tweets about Hazel snoring and this is taken as possible confirmation of Misha's secret stan account

December 11th, 2020: A script from Cas's perspective leaks. It says "We see Cass's POV of Dean again - his face drawn, drained of hope. But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester."

December 16th, 2020: Newsweek runs an article about an article that Misha wrote about the Lewinsky affair while interning in the Clinton White House in which Misha comes off as rather thirsty for Bill

December 20th, 2020: All Supernatural related materials disappear off the CW's website due to a copyright dispute with Warner Brothers

December 31st, 2020: Mishapocalypse redux

February 9th, 2021: Spn cast members Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris tweet about a party at the Roadhouse and it grows to become a full Destiel wedding

February 16th, 2021: @steveyockey made a fairly benign post about Jensen Ackles. The notes went wild in a variety of ways and started a rumor that Spn writer Steve Yockey was dead

February 20th, 2021: Steve Yockey is not dead and he should say it

March 3rd, 2021: The German dub drops and it is also romantic in tone

March 6-8th, 2021: A virtual con happens where Jensen discusses Chaos Machine and Jared says he wants to be in their next project. They also show that WAP video. Jensen is giving full mountain man preparing to play Soldier Boy.

March 10th, 2021: The French dub is released. Cas says, "I love you, Dean" and Dean now responds, "Don't do this to me, Castiel"

March 13th, 2021: The company Amazon tweets about Castiel and Misha Collins asks if they ship Deancas or Wincest. Subsequently apologizes.

March 16th, 2021: Misha says he can't speak as Castiel because Warner Brothers" specifically forbade it. #cwsniperconfirmed

March 17th, 2021: Sam and Eileen are getting married! I have no idea how this came about but I'm happy for them

March 23rd, 2021: Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris claim on Twitter that the Roadhouse party was about Valentine's day and not a wedding. Ferris specifically said that she worked on the show and that people tried to make Dean/Cas into "something that it wasn't", She also stated she doesn't "know what queerbaiting is" and that it was due to an "agenda". This led to #deanisbi trending on Twitter and Tumblr.

March 31st, 2021: Some possibly fake leaked scripts come up for sale on eBay. Also, Jensen is Batman.

April 1st, 2021: Mishapocalypse redux

April 6th, 2021: Leaked scripts from the 2 final episodes pop up and have several mentions of Cas in them that were omitted. Dean even thinks about Cas's confession when confronting Chuck.

April 18th, 2021: Scripts from seasons 12 and 13 leak. These include scenes from after Cas's death

May 17th, 2021: Jensen's band Radio Company releases an album including the song Watching Over Me

June ~5th, 2021: Misha says at a convention that Watching Over Me is about Castiel. Jensen neither confirms nor denies this when asked about it

June 11th, 2021: It is announced that Misha is publishing a book of poetry

June 18th, 2021: The Russian dub airs and Dean's line is changed to "Don't you dare, Cas"

June 24-28th, 2021: Jensen and Daneel Ackles reveal that they are making a Supernatural prequel series following John and Mary Winchester (a story that NOBODY was asking for). Jensen will reprise his role as Dean and will narrate. Misha hints that he would like to be involved, as do Ruthie Connell, Samantha Ferris, Matt Cohen, and Julie McNiven (the perils of having a cast of mostly immortal characters). But Jared Padalecki first says that he is happy for the Ackles's, he later said he was "gutted", then responded to Robbie Thompson's tweet calling him a "coward" and saying "what an awful thing you've done". The next day, Jensen and Jared both do damage control and say they'll always be brothers

July 17th, 2021: People are asking if Destiel will be canon in Space Jam, Misha's poetry book's cover is revealed to lukewarm reviews and people are talking about a particular poem about piss, and Perfume Genius releases an article that is a self-insert vore fanfiction about having sex with Jensen Ackles

August 2nd, 2021: Perfume Genius is at it again with "Last Friday, I had my eyes removed by Jared Padalecki". No, I do not know why she is doing this.

August 9th, 2021: Destiel fics hit 100k on Ao3. Misha tweets his support and people remember that he sometimes reads fanfiction and theorize he has an A03 account

September 1st, 2021: Misha makes his first Tiktok. There is a short intro before he calls cut, walks behind a screen, and strips his clothes off

September 3rd, 2021: Jake Abel uses Michael and Adam to help sell his hot sauce brand

September 4th, 2021: Misha confirms that the love between Castiel and Dean was "reciprocated"

September 9th, 2021: A clip of the real Italian dub of the confession scene goes viral as it is revealed that, unlike the Spanish dub, they change the line to "ti voglio bene" or essentially "I love you like family". Misha responds with a video saying "Ciao Italia, ti amo" with the subtitle "Love is love in any language"

September 21st, 2021: Misha drops the fact that one of his poems is from Castiel's perspective.

September 30th, 2021: Jensen will be appearing at a con on the same day as Misha and not with Jared for "professional reasons"

October 4th, 2021: Misha responds to a fan's tweet by saying that Jensen has "crazy eyes and a knife in his pocket"

October 10th, 2021: Daneel posts a picture of Jensen intently reading Misha's poetry book in front of a roaring fire on Instagram. Misha responds that he misses them even more

October 12th, 2021: Jensen is cast in Rust, a (rather ill-fated) western and Misha says "Yippie-ki-yay" and calls him a stud in the comments

October 16th, 2021: Denvercon. Jensen and Jared reunite for the first time since THE INCIDENT

April 24th, 2022: Misha Collins says in terms of being an extrovert, an introvert, or a bisexual, he joked "I'm all three". This led to the internet celebrating Misha's newly revealed bisexuality.

April 25th, 2022: Misha Collins comes out as straight. Oops!

June 19th, 2022: According to Misha, Dean's heaven was supposed to be at the Roadhouse with all his friends and Cas was going to be there with him

November 7th, 2022: Misha calls Elon Musk a snowflake

November 12th, 2022: Tumblr starts planning another Mishapocalypse

January 24th, 2023: Jensen and the cast of the Winchesters throw Dean Winchester a birthday party, including wearing silly little hats

February 26th, 2023: At JIBcon 11, Jensen sings an improvised song about an angel while Misha sits cross-legged on the floor looking up at him

April 1st, 2023: 10 year anniversary of the Mishapocalypse

April 16th, 2023: A year after his bisexual whoopsie daisy, Misha says that Warner Brothers asked him to "let it go" and keep pretending to be bisexual.

August 23, 2023: Rogue Spanish translator is revealed to not have gone rogue at all but instead to have followed the script he was given, confirming the existence of a mutual love confession that was cut at some point.

If you can remember any events and dates that I haven't found, please let me know and I'll add them! I haven't really rounded out 2022 and 2023 yet.

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worth-the-chaos · 4 months

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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Billy is still hitting on you, Steve’s still mad, and Dustin’s still a pain in the ass to babysit. When he tells you and Steve that there’s a massive problem of upside down proportions, the two of you have no choice but to drop everything to help the boy, reprising your roles as badasses who eradicate the supernatural in Hawkins.

Content Warning: swearing, upside down shit, billy being an ass, stancy, anxiety and tense moments, fluff, protective!steve

Word Count: 7.0k

Author’s Note: Still a slow burn but Steve and the reader’s relationship is slowly starting to develop in this part! More of this chapter also represents Steve’s perspective on things, which was really fun to write. I also got to write more interaction with Dustin, which more is obviously yet to come, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist | Part 2 | Next Part

***

While your conversation last night had helped him calm down a bit about Nancy’s comments about their relationship, Steve was still trying really damn hard to keep his cool about it. After all the years of being an asshole and putting himself first, he knew he didn’t deserve for things to go his way. But it was his senior year. He had hoped at least something could go according to plan, but shit seemed like it just kept finding new ways to hit the fan.

This turned out to be especially true when he was in his P.E. class, playing basketball against the same ass who wouldn’t leave you alone at Tina’s last night. Gym was the one class he didn’t usually have to worry about, his athleticism allowing it to be a distraction from his other responsibilities. In other words, it was a piece of cake. Besides, outside of study hall, it was the only class he was taking that you were also in. He would be lying if he said that it didn’t give him a bit of an ego boost to know that you were always there to watch him show off with whatever sport they played. He happened to excel at all of them.

That was until this asshole Billy showed up. Steve was pretty sure Billy was still mad about the way he interfered in his futile attempt to seduce you last night, and it was showing on the court with the way Billy was shoving at Steve every chance he got.

“Alright, alright, King Steve everyone,” Billy taunted, laughing as he dribbled the ball, “I like it, playing tough today.”

“Do you ever stop talking, man? Come on,” Steve rolled his eyes. He was just about done with this dude’s shit.

“What? You afraid that coach is gonna bench you now that I’m here? Huh?” Billy asked, getting closer and closer to Steve. He shoved into Steve, causing the boy to take a hard fall, hitting the ground pretty hard, before Billy tossed the ball effortlessly into the hoop.

You rolled your eyes from the bleachers. Boys are so fucking stupid. You were glad coach didn’t care what the girls were doing during class, more focused on the extra practice that his team was getting in; the one time sexism paid off. Most of the time you just brought homework to work on, using the class as an additional study period.

You saw Billy grab Steve’s hand to help him up, saying something to him you couldn’t quite hear, before shoving him back down to the floor.

“Alright, let’s take five everyone! Go get water, stretch, whatever, just be back in here otherwise I’m marking you absent,” your coach yelled out the empty threat, and you hopped off the bleachers and made your way over to Steve.

“So, today doesn’t really seem like your day,” you teased, offering your hand to help Steve up. He gladly took it, happy that at least through all the (as Nancy would word it) bullshit, you were still there, something he couldn’t say for his girlfriend at the moment. He shoved the thought down.

“Evidently not. You know, that Billy Hargrove kid is a real pain in my ass,” Steve fumed, “I mean first he shows up driving like a mad man in the goddamn parking lot, and now he won’t stop fucking shoving me. Like hello? Is that not a fucking foul?! And don’t get me fucking started on him coming on to you at Tina’s last night and refusing to leave you the hell alone until I had to get involved. What if I wasn’t there? What would he have done to you? I swear if he talks to you one more—“

You cut him off, “woah, woah, woah, Steve. You need to calm down. He’s just an ass, it’s not worth your time. Plus, you know I can handle my own and he’s left me alone since then, so I’m sure it’s all going to be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s what you don’t get, y/n. I’m always worried about you,” he sounded exasperated and his tone was angry, but you knew it was misdirected. You tried not to flush at the sentiment. You knew that he cared but sometimes it still surprised you considering a year ago you were largely blissfully unaware of each other’s existence.

You decided it was best to give him a few moments to calm down. “I swear it’s all going to be fine,” you promised as you headed back to the bleachers. As you turned around, you suddenly realized that Nancy was there, gripping her purse strap as she made eye contact with you. She smiled a half smile and waved, and you wondered how much of last night she really remembered. You waved back as you took your seat.

She motioned for Steve to follow her outside and he hesitantly obliged, clearly not super excited about the conversation they were about to have. As soon as he cleared the doorway, you noticed a presence to your left turning to be met with the face of Billy Hargrove. You felt your heart stop in your chest. Even though you told Steve you could handle things on your own, it was a lot easier said than done.

“What do you want?” You demanded, facing forward to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your full attention.

“I just feel like we got off on the wrong foot is all,” he said, and you could hear the fake charm dripping from his lips like poison. You knew there were girls here that would fall for this shit, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty partial to abiding by the first impression you set and I’m not feeling so generous as to give you a do over.”

He chuckled, “you’re feisty. I like that, you know.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do or do not like. Now if you could kindly leave me the fuck alone, I think your dumbass game is starting back up,” you nodded towards the court and the boys who had started to pass the ball again.

“You’ll see. You’re gonna give me a second chance, just wait,” he predicted as he hopped down the bleachers to join his classmates. Once he hit the court, Steve made his way back into the gym and you were thankful for the timing. The last thing you needed was these boys trying to kill each other. Steve looked a little bit defeated and you couldn’t help but wonder what Nancy had said.

Gym went on per usual for the last fifteen minutes of class: girls largely sitting in the bleachers, boys trying to show off for them, until the two groups finally parted ways to change and clean up in their respective locker rooms before the bell rang in ten minutes. You waved at Steve as you made your way out of the gym, and he offered a half-hearted one in return.

Steve’s conversation with Nancy had gone just about as bad as he thought it would. Of course she didn’t remember the shit she said last night; that would be too convenient. Steve was still hung up on the fact that she couldn’t even tell him that she loved him. Was it all just a lie?

Steve headed over to the showers and undressed, hoping that the hot water could wash away some of the anger he was feeling. He had a tendency to be hot headed at times, but he was trying to turn over a new leaf. He was trying to be better, and he wasn’t going to let his temper get the best of him.

He watched as Billy made his way over to him, picking the shower to his right as turned the water on, “don’t sweat it Harrington. Today’s just not your day, man.”

Perfect, this was just perfect. Steve ignored him, continuing to run shampoo through his hair.

“More like not your week,” Tommy H added as he stepped up beside the two boys, “you and the princess break up and she immediately runs off with the freak’s brother.”

“Bullshit. I just talked to her.”

“Oh shit, you don’t know,” Tommy smiled, happy to have found more shit to throw at Steve today. “Jonathan and the princess ran off after your little conversation. She got in his beat up old car in the parking lot and it looks like they’re ditching the rest of the day. But that must just be a coincidence, right?”

Tommy laughed as he turned the water off and walked away.

“Don’t take it too hard, man,” Billy spoke up, “a pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about. Plenty of bitches in the sea.”  Steve continued to ignore him, not having the time or energy for his shit, when Billy reached over to turn off the shower, leaving Steve soap covered and angry. He patted Steve on the back before walking away, adding “I’ll make sure to leave you some. Not y/n though. I’ve got my eye on her.”

Steve glared at him before aggressively turning the water back on. He hadn’t known about Nancy and Jonathan running off together, and frankly right now he didn’t’ care. He had always gotten weird vibes from their relationship. Hell, if he was being honest, they were probably the same vibes that Nancy got from his relationship with you. He didn’t really have time to think about all of that though, instead fuming over Billy’s persistent obsession with you.

Billy had only been here for a few fucking days and he was already causing problems Steve didn’t need. He could put up with the snide comments and taunts, but the second he came for you again, Steve’s patience would be out the window.

What a hell of a senior year.

***

It was a Saturday afternoon. Normally you didn’t babysit on Saturdays because Mrs. Henderson was off work, but she had called you the night before, saying she needed you. It was kind of hard to tell what she was saying because she seemed very upset, her emotion leaking into her voice and making her extremely difficult to understand. Something about her…cat being missing? Either way, you were headed toward the Henderson household, frustrated that you’d lost one of your only free days of the week, but you needed the extra cash, so here you were.

Before you could even make it up the porch steps to knock so that Dustin could let you in, he was flying out the door, bumping into you and knocking you off balance in the process.

“Code red! I repeat this is a code red!” He yelled into his headset as he darted past you, heading to grab his bike from the front lawn. You rolled your eyes and pivoted.

“Dude, what the hell?” You were ready to yell at him, to lecture him to be more careful, but he was mounting his bike and pedaling down the street before you could even conjure up the words. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? You can’t just leave!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry! It’s an emergency! My mom’s bike is in the garage and I’m headed to the Wheelers’, but I have to go, now! Please don’t kill me!” He yelled over his shoulder as he got farther and farther away from you.

“I don’t know how to…ride a bike,” you started off yelling before going back to a normal speaking volume as you sighed, realizing your shouting was futile. With no other options, you thanked the universe that you had worn your tennis shoes today, and took off sprinting towards the Wheelers’.

Simultaneously, Steve was headed to the same location. He’d stopped to pick up a bouquet of roses for Nancy on the way, feeling the need to sort things out with her before it was too late. He wasn’t ready to give up on them just yet and he hoped that the gift would work like a bit of a peace offering to reset the balance and make everything okay again.

He parked his BMW in front of her house, rehearsing what he would say when she answered the door as he got out of his car.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking, I love you, I’m sorry….I’m sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?” He muttered as he made his way towards the front door.

“Steve! Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” It was the Henderson kid. Steve didn’t have the time for this, looking at the boy in annoyance.

“No?” He replied, confused at the boy’s line of questioning.

“Good,” Dustin replied as he grabbed the flowers and made his way towards Steve’s parked car. A rose fell from the bouquet in the process and Steve leaned down to pick it up before following the child.

“Hey! What the hell?”

“Nancy isn’t home.”

“Where is she?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dustin started, “we have bigger problems than your love life.” He opened the passenger door. “Do you still have that bat?”

“Bat? What bat?” Steve asked. Why the hell is this kid getting in my damn car?

“The one with the nails?” Dustin clarified, throwing his hands up in a way that irritated Steve. Of course that was the bat the kid was talking about. How could he possibly have not known that considering the fact that it had been sitting in the trunk of another vehicle for a full calendar year, untouched?

“Why?”

“I’ll explain it on the way,” Dustin replied as he sat down. Steve was a bit thrown off by how immediate this had to be, not really in the mood to chauffeur the Henderson boy around. He felt anxiety creep up in his chest as he thought back to the last time he had to use the bat in question.

“Now?” Steve clarified as he jogged towards his car.

“Now!” Dustin confirmed as he slammed the car door shut. Steve quickly slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car and putting it in gear. He was about ready to pull away when hands slammed against his window, causing him and Dustin to scream out, alarmed by the sudden noise.

There you were, huffing and puffing from your impromptu run through the neighborhood. The anger on your face was glaringly apparent, neither boy recalling a time that you’d looked that mad before. And Dustin especially had done enough to make you pretty damn mad. You yanked the car door open and collapsed in the backseat of the BMW.

“What the hell y/n? You scared the absolute shit out of me! I could’ve run you over or something! Where the hell’d you even come from? Why are you even here?” Steve turned around to yell at you. You glared up at him with fire in your eyes, continuing to pant as you aggressively pushed a strand of hair aside that had fallen out of your ponytail and into your face.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” You growled as your gaze shifted to the Henderson boy, who was attempting to shrink into nothing in the front seat.

“I-I told you that you could take the bike?” He squeaked out, clearly afraid of your wrath. You were usually so calm all of the time, so the rage permeating through the car was borderline terrifying.

“I don’t know how to ride a goddamn bike!” You screamed as you squeezed your eyes shut. It was embarrassing, but you were too frustrated right now to focus on that.

“That….well, that was an oversight on my part,” Dustin replied.

“Wait, she’s fucking babysitting you and you took off on a bike and left her behind? What the fuck dude?” Steve interjected, angry on your behalf.

“Yeah, I could have walked you to the damn Wheelers’ house! Leaving me like that was way out of line, asshole.”

“It is an emergency!” Dustin attempted to defend himself, “I’m sorry I left you by yourself to walk—“

“Run.” You corrected.

“—to run after me. But I’m not going to apologize for leaving because some crazy ass shit is going on and I need help. Big time.”

Looking at the boy it was clear that something was very wrong. Normally he was pretty happy go lucky, but now he was pretty damn stoic. Your anger slowly faded as you thought to what the boy could possibly have meant by the code red earlier.

“It…it-it’s not…it’s not what I think it is, is it?” You whispered, unable to really get the words out.

“It’s probably exactly what you think it is,” Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite the fact that the boy had left you behind, you could understand his reasoning. This Upside Down shit was not something to be taken lightly, and you were glad you and Steve were here now to help him so he didn’t have to figure it out on his own.

Before either of you responded, Steve put the car in gear for a second time, pulling away from the Wheeler residence. You guys were already losing light and Steve’s house wasn’t super close, meaning that time was of the essence.

“So…it’s the demogorgon,” Steve finally spoke up, saying what you had been unable to earlier.

“Well, not exactly,” Dustin started, “on Halloween, I found this…thing in my trashcan, really small you know—non threatening and the like—and I did some research and thought it was a pollywog—“

“A polly-what?” Steve interjected.

“A pollywog. Kind of like a tadpole, but that’s not important. Anyway, I kept it and I named it D’Artagnan, Dart for short, because I thought I had discovered a new species. Turns out I wasn’t entirely wrong because it molted last night and it’s definitely a precursor to a full blown demogorgon.”

“Shit,” you whispered and your right hand instinctively went to grasp your upper left arm, shielding your wounds from your previous encounter with the beast.

“How big did you say this thing was again?” Steve asked, not entirely convinced that this was as large a threat as Dustin was making it out to be.

“It started out like this,” he held his hands close together, “and now it’s like this,” he added as he spaced them significantly farther apart. You shuddered; if Dustin wasn’t exaggerating, this thing was now closer to the size of a small dog. It had only been a few days since he found the thing, how long did you guys have until it was the hulking nine-foot monster that had attacked you last year?

“Dude, it’s probably just some little lizard, man,” Steve began trying to brush the boy off.

“It’s not a lizard!”

“How do you know it’s not just some lizard?” Steve shot back, annoyed at the fact that this could potentially be a false alarm. Throughout Dustin’s explanation Steve kept looking at you in the rearview mirror and he could tell you were starting to get worked up over the potential of another supernatural threat.

“How do I know it’s not some lizard? Because his face opened up and he ate my cat,” Dustin deadpanned, bothered by the fact that Steve wasn’t believing him. This answer seemed to be acceptable as Steve dropped the subject, nodding, not really sure what he could say.

“Wait, Mews is dead?” You asked, your heart dropping a bit. You loved that cat; she was such a good study buddy when you were killing time at the Henderson household. Dustin just nodded quietly from the front seat.

None of you really knew what to say, so you sat in silence as Steve drove the rest of the way to his house. You all needed time to process this; time that you didn’t have. As he pulled up, you paused to take in the sight of the Harrington household. It was huge, an elaborate display of wealth that almost made you sick to your stomach. He unlocked the trunk of another vehicle, most likely an extra one that was used on occasion, pulling out the bat that he had used to save your life last year.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” Steve sounded confident, not allowing his voice to waver in the slightest. You all went to pile back into the BMW, Dustin heading for the passenger seat again when Steve grabbed him by his collar, stopping the boy in his tracks. “Nice try, pipsqueak. You’re in back.”

You chuckled as Steve opened the door for you. You spent the ride back to Dustin’s focusing on what potential horror may lie ahead of you. At least it’s smaller this time, you kept telling yourself. If you could take on a monster several feet taller than you last year, you could kick the puppy sized equivalent easy, right?

Dustin took you around the back of his house to the cellar. Despite the fact that it was locked shut, you still approached it with caution, not entirely sure of what the monster inside of it was capable of. The three of you stared at the closed doors, not really sure what you were waiting for.

“I don’t hear shit,” Steve finally spoke up, referring to the silence coming from the cellar below. If there was one thing that you knew from your supernatural encounter last year, it was that this thing was far from quiet. Sometimes you would wake up in a cold sweat, the memory of the low growl, the chattering, the screeching, coming back to you in your most vulnerable state.

“He’s in there,” Dustin promised. Steve began to hit the metal doors with the bat, still not entirely convinced. When there was no response, Steve turned to the boy.

“Alright, listen kid, I swear if this is just some Halloween prank, you’re dead,” Steve looked him dead in the eye. He knew from Halloween night how much this still affected you and if he was being honest, the experience still took a toll on him as well, so if this punk kid thought he was going to prank the two of you by forcing you to relive the most terrifying experience of your lives, he had another thing coming.

“Woah, woah, woah, how about we calm the fuck down? I get paid to babysit this damn kid, and I’ll be damned if I let you touch a hair on his head,” you got between the two boys, glaring up at Steve. Even though he had changed, you didn’t trust that his hot headedness wouldn’t return in a momentary lapse of judgment. Steve thought you looked entirely too maternal, and it made his heart skip, but he put his hands up and rolled his eyes. You turned toward Dustin.

“That being said. If this is a prank, I’m going to be pissed the fuck off,” you shot the boy a warning glance before adding, “now, do you have a key for this thing?”

Dustin tossed you the keys, but Steve intercepted them before you could catch them. He unlocked the doors, pulling them open to reveal a very dark and uninviting looking cellar. It was the kind of darkness you would have been afraid of as a child, worrying that the shadows housed imaginary monsters. However, this time you weren’t a kid and those monsters were far from imaginary. You and Steve pointed your flashlights down there, illuminating the cellar floor to display the nothingness. It was almost more unnerving than if the monster had just been there…almost.

“He must be farther down there…I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape,” Dustin was quick to add, being so kind as to volunteer to stay far from the potential danger. You and Steve stared at him in disbelief. The nerve of this kid.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding, dude. It’s your problem, and you’re gonna be an absolute wimp about it after we’ve spent our afternoons chauffeuring you around town?” Steve fumed, about done with Dustin’s shit.

“I’m still in middle school! You guys are at least a modicum closer to being adults than I am, so it only makes sense that—“

You cut him off, swiftly grabbing the nail bat from Steve’s grasp. “You both are a bunch of cowards,” you sighed as you started making your way down the stairs. Behind you, you could hear the sounds of arguing between the two of them, each one shaming the other that they had let you, a woman, go down there alone.

“What the hell man? You’re really gonna let her go down there by herself? Not cool”

“She wouldn’t have gone in the first place if you hadn’t immediately wimped out.”

“I’m in eighth grade! You’re a fucking senior! You go down there! Man up!”

Chivalry is dead, you thought as you pulled the string to turn on the overhead light.

Your heart stopped when you saw the slick pile of shedded skin sitting in the middle of the cellar. This thing was bigger now. You felt the anxiety creep up in your chest and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you readjusted your grip on the bat, struggling to grasp it as your hands trembled. That’s when you noticed the gaping hole in the side of the cellar. You cautiously approached it, realizing it was tunneled out farther than the light from your flashlight could reach. The thought of what was lurking in that hole made you shudder.

Meanwhile, the boys finished their futile argument, not realizing you had completely disappeared into the cellar, now out of view. Steve and Dustin, stared at each other, wide eyed and panicking, realizing how gravely they had messed up.

“Y/n?” Dustin yelled hesitantly down the steps.

Upon hearing no response, Steve’s heart rate picked up and he spoke up as well, “y/n, what’s going on down there?”

Suddenly, you popped around the corner without warning, causing the boys to jump. “Get down here,” your tone was serious and the boys swiftly made their way down the cellar stairs, finally joining you as they should have done in the first place. You picked up the molted skin of Dustin’s discovery, showing it to the boys.

“Oh shit,” Dustin whispered, but when you pointed out the gaping hole in the cellar, he repeated it more emphatically, “Oh shit!”

“Yeah, ‘oh shit’ is right. We need to find it,” you turned to look at the boys. You wouldn’t let it roam Hawkins again. You wouldn’t let another Will get taken or another Barb get killed.

“It’s too dark out to do anything about it tonight,” Steve reminded you. There was no safe way for you to catch this thing. You had no game plan, no supplies, nothing.

“Steve,” you begged, looking up at him through your lashes. Even though you knew he was right, it made you nauseous to think about leaving this for tomorrow. You didn’t know how you would sleep tonight knowing that that monster was unaccounted for.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, but we just can’t. You know that. Think about how awful it was last time and we knew where the damn thing was and had a whole ass warning system for when it showed up. We can’t just walk out into the woods in total darkness expecting to find it and come out unscathed. We just can’t,” Steve replied, looking at you with sympathy. He didn’t want to leave this for tomorrow either, but you were just going to have to settle for that. There wasn’t another option.

You took a deep breath and nodded. Dustin turned to head back up out of the cellar, exiting the main room, out of sight as he bounded up the stairs happy to be out of there. When you turned to follow, you felt a gentle hand on the small of your back. You turned to face Steve and he moved his hand to your upper arm, placing his other hand at the nape of your neck. You looked him in the eye and swallowed the lump in your throat. This was the most sincere you had ever seen him.

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it, I promise,” Steve said quietly. You breathed in deeply and nodded, trying to trust him even though all of this was wildly out of your control. He let go of you reaching his hand between you, pinky extended, just like it had been in the library.

You felt a pang in your chest. That was how your lives should be; just two dumb high school students studying, thinking about what colleges you were going to go to, making stupid promises about parties that were more fun in theory than they were in actuality. Not whatever this was. But nonetheless you took his pinky in yours and you hoped with all your might that he’d be able to keep his promise; that everything would be okay.

“Hello? Are you guys coming? Did the demogorgon come back and eat the two of you alive?” Dustin’s voice rang out, sounding annoyed as it echoed in the open cellar.

“Not funny!” You shouted back, the moment between you and Steve fizzling out, as you dropped each other’s pinkies, making your way out of the cellar. You shut the heavy metal doors, triple checking that they were locked before standing to draw up a game plan with the boys.

“Alright, how about I pick you both up around 10:00 tomorrow morning?” Steve asked, looking between you and Dustin.

“That works. Dustin, your mom’s home, right? Her car was in the driveway, yeah?” You asked, making sure that Dustin wasn’t alone.

“Yep, everything should be fine here. Well, other than the whole Dart-ate-my-cat thing but yeah, I’m good. Your babysitting services are no longer needed for the evening.”

You walked him to the front door and thanked Mrs. Henderson as she paid you for watching him on a weekend. You could tell the poor woman was still distraught about her cat, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest. You and Steve made your way back over to his car and he opened the passenger door for you once again. He started driving towards your subdivision when you spoke up.”

“Steve, stop.”

He was getting flashbacks to Halloween, when the discussion of Barb had been too much for you to handle. “Woah, y/n is everything okay?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I just…I-I don’t want to be alone,” you stammered, “my parents work nights and I just have a bad feeling about all of this, and I’m not quite ready to be by myself. Can you just give me a minute to calm down a little?”

You looked up at Steve innocently, your facial features twisted with worry. It was a look that could break him. He remembered his promise to you; that everything would be okay. He decided that this is where that promise started. He didn’t say anything as he turned down a side street with a cul-de-sac, making his way back to the top of the street before turning in the opposite direction of your house.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“You can stay at mine tonight. My parents aren’t home this weekend anyway so it’ll be fine,” he assured you.

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude,” you asked quietly, hoping that he didn’t change his mind.

“‘Don’t want to intrude’ my ass. The first time you came to my house you practically almost knocked down my door!” Steve laughed.

“Hey! It was an emergency! What was I supposed to do? Clearly I had exhausted all other resources by that point. The Henderson kid is a problem, you can blame him,” you defended yourself, giggling as you recalled the first time you sought Steve out.

“Nah, I’ll just thank him instead. It turned out to be a really good thing for me, you know?” He smiled at you. He was right; Dustin being a hellish child to babysit ended up turning out pretty damn good…aside from all of the paranormal, supernatural bullshit you were both knee deep in.

But that didn’t matter right now, as Steve turned on the radio, the two of you singing out of key to the latest hits as he drove off towards his house.

***

Sure, it was dark out, but it wasn’t too late yet, so Steve took you out back by the pool. You couldn’t imagine living in a place like this. In theory it would be awesome, but then you thought about how often his parents were gone, not to mention how hard they were on him, and you decided that you were better off in your small but loving home.

“So, yeah, this is the pool. I would say we could go for a swim, but it’s a little too cold for that,” Steve chuckled.

“Not too cold to sit out here, though,” you smiled as you took a seat on one of the lounge chairs.

“Be careful, you might get a sunburn,” Steve joked as he took a seat in the chair next to you. He thought about how the two of you had gotten to this point. Before you had knocked on his door that fateful day last fall, he had noticed you around school, but mostly just enough to know that you were a bit of a loner and you made good grades. Hell, he had almost reached out to you once or twice when his parents were on his ass about his poor performance in his classes, but he had always scoffed and rolled his eyes. Because how could he, King Steve, ever reach out to you?

He wished he had. He wondered how different things would have been. If he would have fallen in love with Nancy or if he would’ve been spared the heartache. He’d never know but he couldn’t help but contemplate how different your relationship would have been if you hadn’t been brought together by trauma. Maybe she wouldn’t have even wanted to speak to me, he reasoned.

“You know, if you told me a year ago that I would be hanging out one on one with Steve Harrington at his house, I would’ve called you crazy,” you had gotten up, moving to sit by the side of the pool, kicking your legs back and forth in the cold water.

“I was just thinking about that actually,” Steve admitted, “do you ever wonder how different it would be if we met before all this shit happened?”

“I mean, to be honest, not really. I think we both had some growing to do before we were ever going to get along. Last year kind of forced us to grow up a little faster than we really needed to. Maybe that’s a bad thing, but right now it seems pretty good to me,” you looked at him with sincerity. You meant every word of it.

“What do you mean both of us? I was the one that was an ass, you were perfect all on your own beforehand.”

You flushed with the praise, “no, seriously, I had some growing up to do too. Back then I thought I had you all figured out. I was confident that you were just some asshole jock, and I wouldn’t have guessed you had the capacity to change. I kind of stuck to myself, and I didn’t have a lot of friends, so I guess in a way, I was a bit jealous of you. People just gravitate towards you; I blend in so much I might as well not even be there.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Billy sure is noticing you,” Steve muttered, and you couldn’t contain your laughter. You wish he’d stop being so focused on that, but you knew how protective he tended to be, so it made sense that it would still be on his mind after how Billy had treated you on Halloween.

“Yeah, that definitely doesn’t make me feel better; actually quite the contrary,” you chuckled, “you know, on paper you both should get along.”

“That’s so not true.”

“Think about it! You’re both athletic, flirt too much for your own good, have pretty good hair, popular beyond my wildest imagination, and you guys are both chick magnets. Forgive me for seeing some similarities,” you smirked. You knew it would set him off, which is exactly why you said it. If you were being completely honest, his frustration was a bit amusing at times.

“Yeah, but he’s like a complete asshole! I would never have just grabbed you like he did at that party. That was not fucking cool. Like yeah, of course he’d want to talk to you, look at you, but couldn’t he have just introduced himself and struck up a damn conversation instead of immediately getting handsy and shit? Like fuck!”

“What do you mean of course he’d want to talk to me?” You asked, baffled. You hadn’t really dated at all because no one was really interested in the weird alt girl who, despite all stereotypes, was killing herself to make good grades.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re pretty. And you’re not like every other bitch. You’re different and you stand out because of it. In a good way. Now stop being self deprecating and get inside, we’re going to have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn so we can pick up your damn kid,” he offered you a hand to help you up from the ground, which you gladly took, trying and failing not to flush at the compliment.

He led you upstairs after giving you a tour of the main level. “Here is the guest room, you can sleep in here tonight. Wait here a second,” he added as he darted across the hall, disappearing into what you assumed to be his room. You took in the sight of the guest bedroom. It was perfectly set up, and though it was pristine and tastefully decorated, something about it felt cold and lonely; impersonal.

Before you could think about it too much, Steve returned with a stack of clothes in his hands. “You can wear these. I-I assumed you didn’t want to sleep in jeans. It’s just, um, it’s just a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt, but I can take them back if you’d rather just you know, keep those on,” he said as he gestured to you and your outfit. You chuckled as you took the stack of clothes from him.

“Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it,” you smiled up at him through your lashes.

She’s gonna be the death of me, Steve thought, as he felt his cheeks heat up from your gratitude. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, no problem. Um, well…I’m right across the hall if you need anything. Sleep well, y/n,” he smiled at you.

“Sleep well, Harrington,” you replied, entering the guest bedroom. Once Steve was no longer with you, you felt all of your fear and anxiety invade your consciousness again. You swiftly changed and looked at yourself in the full length mirror hung on the wall. I could get used to this, you thought, feeling butterflies in your stomach from the fact that you were in Steve’s clothes. It all felt too domestic. You were beginning to blur the line between friends and something more, and the thought made you a little nauseous. You weren’t sure you were ready for that.

But as you laid in the big bed in the very empty and lonely guest room, fear crept up in your chest, and you decided that none of that mattered as you quietly crossed the hall, knocking softly on Steve’s door. He answered almost immediately, a concerned look across his face.

“Is something wrong?” He quickly asked, his hands hovering around your frame as he scanned you up and down to make sure nothing was amiss.

“I-I just…I still think I’m not quite ready to be by myself,” your voice was small and you looked down at the floor, embarrassed. You felt weak and wished that you were strong enough to face this without needing someone to lean on. But that’s what friends were for.

“Of course! Yeah, um I can sleep on the floor and you can take my bed, I have an extra pillow in the—“

You cut him off, “Steve! You are not going to sleep on the floor.”

“Uh, yeah I am?”

“Over my dead body,” you shot back, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You’re a guest!”

“Yeah, a guest that’s being difficult!”

“Y/n,” he warned.

“The way I see it we’re either both sleeping on the floor or we’re both sleeping in the bed, so take your pick Harrington,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose. Nothing could be easy with this boy.

“I sleep on the left side,” he sighed as he flopped onto the bed. You flopped down next to him, and you both turned to face away from each other. You felt your heart rate slow as the fear dissipated from your body, your shoulders finally being able to relax. Steve made you feel safe, and you wouldn’t trade that for anything else.

If only you knew that Steve felt the same way about you, and that you were the only one keeping his panic at bay. There was so much uncertainty in his life right now; Nancy, college, demogorgon-upside-down bullshit. Everything felt like it was going to shit, but you were the one thing that was going right.

You were the only constant he had right now.

As the two of you drifted off to sleep, it was the first time in a long time that either of you felt truly at peace. As the night went on, the distance between you began to disappear, as you slowly shifted towards each other, your legs tangled together under Steve’s soft sheets. Tomorrow would likely bring more pain, uncertainty, and problems, but right now that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, in Steve’s bedroom, sleeping so soundly that for a moment things seemed right with the world.

***

a/n: Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also, if you feel so inclined as to reblog, I would not be mad ;)

#joe keery #stranger things #steve harrington #friends to lovers #steve harrington fanfic #netflix #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction

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eldritch-thrumming · 4 months

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ok and like one of the main things i would like to say is that if they felt the need to have an old man who is critical of the american government, they literally could remove the violent zionist brett gelman and replace him with wayne munson. a wayne munson who’s seeking revenge for his surrogate son who was used as a scapegoat by the fbi to cover up THEIR failures. a wayne munson who, like hopper, is a vietnam vet who returned from his time overseas completely disillusioned with the whole system that allowed all his friends to die for a lie and who’s forced to watch this happen yet again to eddie, a young poor boy who the system abandoned. a wayne munson who readily and fully believes in the supernatural and who provides a working class perspective to the struggle against the us govt’s lies and manipulations that doesn’t really exist in the show, despite class playing a major role in the development of characters like the byers and the wheelers.

the duffers are abt to obliterate the critical acclaim they received for the first season the same way d&d did with game of thrones because they don’t understand their own characters or their fan base and they don’t understand how to develop compelling and complex storylines while remaining realistic and believable in terms of character development and relationships.

#does this make sense? i took my sleeping pill already lol #wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things 5

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thesweetnessofspring · 8 months

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While we're on topic about the lack of passion and physical attraction coming from Katniss and Peeta in the movies, can I just say how unfortunate that is, not just from an Everlark fan perspective, but culture as a whole?

Portrayal of popular m/f romance has often had an edge of abuse to it, if not outright abuse (and unfortunately that trend is still going on). I'm not saying books/movies with abusive or dark material should be banned or shouldn't even be enjoyed; however, there is something to only seeing unhealthy relationships. Also for these unhealthy relationships to be looked at without acknowledging that in real life, these dynamics are unfavorable at best and abusive at worst.

So with the release of The Hunger Games in 2008, we get a different relationship for the YA market. While yeah there were Gale girlies, most of the fans adored Peeta. Peeta who was kind, compassionate, funny without being mean, protective, and strong. And not only that, in an era of vampires and werewolves being inhumanly beautiful, Peeta was not only "some guy" in terms of looks, he ends the first book as an amputee. Still throughout the series Katniss describes him as "beautiful." And in a time when all these paranormal romances had the main character feeling a thrill of danger with her supernatural love interest, Katniss's main attraction to Peeta is that she felt safe with him. That he would never hurt her. That he would protect her. That with him, she could heal and feel hope.

Katniss describes physical attraction to Peeta as well as sexual attraction ("wanting more" of a kiss in THG, kissing Peeta and feeling a "hunger" in CF, imagining kissing Peeta like she did on the beach in MJ, and finally feeling "that hunger" again in MJ). But she also is highly traumatized and is in the middle of her greatest trauma during the series. This makes her uncertain and frightened, and so it isn't until Peeta comes back to Twelve at the end of Mockingjay that she's able to fully acknowledge that she loves Peeta romantically, because he helps her hope that "life will be good again." The "hunger" she felt was for more than hugs and short kisses. She found Peeta Mellark--baker, painter, wrestler, amputee--sexy. We close out Mockingjay with Katniss choosing Peeta, becoming physically intimate with him, and confirming her love to him.

Now what we get from the book is that you can have been abused, have chronic mental illness, be objectively less attractive than your "competition", and be physically disabled; but one's personality, humor, kindness, resilience, and care for others will make you sexy to the right person. That you can enjoy a safe and healthy relationship with good sex.

But by cutting out the intimacy that Katniss and Peeta share at the end of Mockingjay, the message is...if you're lucky the other guy will shoot himself in the foot and you'll win by default. Only don't expect the person you love to be physically attracted to you--you're still broken and not good enough. Just suck it up and accept what you got. Or, if you identify more with Katniss, that if you choose the "safe" person, just be prepared for a really dry sex life. Safe can't be sexy, so you have to choose one.

What an incredible miss for the movies. What a miss to tell boys you can be kind and sensitive and average-looking and the right person will want you. What a miss to tell girls that if a person is thoughtful and caring and giving, that is attractive and honestly, arousing. What a miss to share these messages with any person, however they identify. It's not just meaningful to Katniss and Peeta that they gain the safety and healing to enjoy physical intimacy together, it's meaningful for the reader to see that, too.

#everlark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #peeta mellark #curse you francis and nina

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wellofdean · 28 days

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I read your post about Supernatural being queer somehow from season 1 and I have two questions.

1. Don't you think it straight-appropriates the word "queer" to say it just means "not normal"? That argument seems disingenuous to me, and a lot of us want representation, and to see that word applied to explicit depiction of queer sexuality, and it's a cheat that they don't. Queer studies did start as the study of queer sexualities and the experience of queer people.

2. Are you saying that the makers of Supernatural intended for it to be "flesh on queer bones"? Do you think they intentionally sat down to tell a queer story?

Those are good questions my anonymous friend. Thank you for asking. Here are my thoughts:

To answer your first question: no, I don't think it appropriates anything. Here's why: firstly, if we're talking about sexuality and gender, it's queer 101 that no one owes anyone a justification of their queerness, and not everyone who is queer is interested in labeling it or making it legible to you, and they have no obligation to do so, and not doing so doesn't make them any less queer. Furthermore, some people who are queer are not interested in sex, so what about them?

All of that together is why, for me, the entire queer project is much more deeply about non-compliance with hegemony, and specifically with hegemony around gender roles, sexuality and to put it under a big umbrella, patriarchy, than it is about who you fuck. Those things extend into so many other aspects of life that I think you can easily talk about "queering" a very wide range of topics, and possibly? ANY TOPIC.

You are responding to this post, I think, and in it, I made a choice to talk about family and hunting, and our heroes roles and characterizations in that, and did not talk about gender shenanigans or sexuality, because my point was that even before we get to anything to do with it, Sam and Dean are immersed in a queered world in a fundamental, structural way. That said, I assure you that if you go back into season 1 of Supernatural, you will find LOADS that could be said about gender and sexuality, too. As well as other things, and a particularly important area, as @ironworked pointed out in the tags, is blue collar/white collar class issues.

As I said, the depth of queerness in Supernatural is actually dizzying just in terms of the story's BONES to say nothing of how they flesh it out. Queerness is about deviation from the norm. It's about rebellion and disobedience against hegemonic systems for the sake of personal authenticity and love.

Think about Cas for a minute. Cas's whole story is that he rejects his role in a hegemonic heaven. He rebels for love, and that is pretty explicit as early as season 4 when he tells Dean "We're making it up as we go". Fellas, that is THE QUEEREST SHIT EVER even if he didn't do it for Dean, and like... HE DID IT FOR DEAN. Cas did not have to tell Dean he loved him for me to know it, and for Cas to be a deeply queered character. When he DID say it, I wasn't the least bit surprised he was in love with Dean, because seriously, we been knew. I was only surprised I got to have the immense pleasure of hearing him say it and looking at Dean's face while he took it in. Jesus. I will NEVER RECOVER.

This is my perspective on representation in Supernatural: It's excellent, and I relate to, and feel seen by it as a queer person. Nobody needs to get fucked on the maps table for me to do the math that this is a queer story. It is very, very, very thoroughgoingly canonically queer in so many ways, and not all of them are to do with sex. I think some fans will only allow it to be called queer if dudes make out in it. I am not one of those fans.

As to your second question, I think there is a wealth of evidence in the filmic oeuvre of Eric Kripke to suggest that as an artist and a writer, he is concerned or maybe even preoccupied with masculinity issues and issues around family, and around the way patriarchy fucks men up. So, yes. I think he knew what he was doing and he knew that queerness was part of the mix. For fucks sake, it's a family of men who hunt monsters. That is very fucking on the nose. Do I think he kicked off Supernatural in 2005 planning a 15 year operatic queer romance between Cas and Dean? No. I don't think anyone planned for it to go as long as it did, and it's a matter of record that some things were influenced by fan response, actors' chemistry, different writers and showrunners' preferences and etc. What I will say is that when they had a choice to "straighten shit out" or lean into the queerness, they fucking leaned in, nearly EVERY TIME. Like, it's pretty amazing how consistently they lean the fuck in.

I'll admit -- I wasn't watching it with those eyes the first time, and I didn't give it much real estate in my mind when I watched it as it aired from 2006 to the end, but the last three episodes reshaped it for me and made me angry, and also made me need to watch it all again, this time with an explicitly queer lens, and BOY HOWDY let me tell you this: the Supernatch rewatch journey is a wild and wonderful trip to Queertown. It is legit more difficult to argue that Dean is straight than it is to argue that he is queer. There is a full on CORNUCOPIA of story evidence to support that read and relatively little that convincingly counters it on the straight side, and that starts right at the beginning, when they bend pretty baby Dean over a police car in episode one, and he smirks insouciantly in his lip gloss. Do I think everyone involved knew how that looked? Sexy, submissive and a bit gay?

YES I DO.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #Eric Kripke #watching with queer goggles #I recommend it #it's just queer yo #anti-trashnatural agenda

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borninwinter81 · 1 month

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Queer horror from my teens

I periodically wonder whether these books are still known and read by young goths and horror fans as they were all extremely important to me in my teenage years, so I thought I'd share them.

Though I'm cishet, during the mid 90s two of my favourite authors wrote primarily queer fiction: they were Anne Rice and another author from New Orleans who is now known as Billy Martin.

He came out as a trans man in 2011, however these books were published prior to that so unfortunately you have to search for them under his deadname. This is why I've used that name in the tags on this post. I don't believe the books were ever reprinted with his current name.

Though I loved Rice, I always felt a more immediate connection with Martin due to his vivid portrayal of subcultures like goth and punk, and how it felt to be a teenager who was part of them. I could see myself in many of his characters as I had the same interests, listened to the same music, and shared the same sense of social alienation. Remember in the 90s the Internet was still a reasonably new thing, and many of us didn't have a home Internet connection at all. There was certainly no social media, no YouTube, and no real way to meet and interact with like-minded teens unless you were lucky enough to have another "weird kid" at your school. If you were a weird kid, you likely had very few friends and were bullied.

That as much as anything else led me to seek solace in books written by an author who I felt understood me, and characters who became my friends.

Lost Souls is about vampires in a kind of Lost Boys/Near Dark way. Fans of the YouTuber OfHerbsAndAltars might be interested to know that this book is where the name of his channel comes from - it's a description of the taste of Chartreuse liqueur.

Drawing Blood is about ghosts, a "murder house", computer hacking, comic art and a very beautiful (if rather messed up) romance. This one is probably my favourite of the three.

Exquisite Corpse is about serial killers, set against the AIDS crisis of the 90s. If you like the Hannibal TV series you'll probably enjoy this one - imagine if Dennis Nilsen and Jeffrey Dahmer had somehow met.

Martin doesn't pull any punches when it comes to descriptions of blood and gore, violence, abusive parents or his portrayal of toxic romantic relationships (of which there are many in his books), but if you can deal with those things there is also a great deal of beauty, phenomenally good writing, and a somewhat unique perspective on the supernatural.

Maybe I'm biased, looking at these through the lens of my teenage self. Maybe they'd seem horribly dated to today's young audience. But I still wanted to make this post in case there's someone out there who will end up loving them as much as I did.

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xenodogartz · 4 months

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was inspired by this post to design some hlvrai warrior cats!! i'm honestly shocked it took me 2 years to make a warriors au for it, i love making warriors aus...

some basic info below the cut!

sooo my general idea (it's pretty hazy right now. forgive me) for this au is that songfoot (benrey), nectarbrook (darnold), goldenberry (tommy), galeheart (coomer), scorchtail (bubby), and snakestar (gman) are all from the same clan... i'm between plain ol' thunderclan or a custom clan called mesaclan. i'm probably gonna go with thunderclan because i don't wanna bother with making other clans and lore and stuff LOL. there's some kind of threat outside of the clans that's affecting the environment a la the beavers in arc 4. it's something that starclan definitely caused, whether deliberately or accidentally, i dunno. main point is that snakestar sends songfoot, nectarbrook, goldenberry, galeheart, and scorchtail off on a journey to track down the problem and take care of it. while they're gone, the external threat kills snakestar and he spends all his time being a textbook unhelpful and cryptic starclan cat who just kind of makes things worse. as per a snakestar prophecy, the gang picks up gordon along the way, a kittypet whose owners abandoned her and she's been mostly unsuccessfully fending for herself since. oh and frostpaw (forzen) is part of bloodclan. bloodclan tries and fails to kill the gang, despite frostpaw's best efforts (he kidnapped goldenberry's bird friend, sunny).

some lil character facts and such:

gordon is an ex kittypet. she had a very very cozy and spoiled life up until her twolegs got evicted or something and tossed her out onto the streets. she wasn't out there long before the clan cats found her, and thank god for that, because she sucks at being a survivalist. she is fairly smart though, bringing a fresh perspective and problem solving skills to the group. she is consistently freaked the fuck out by clan cat culture, and the clan cats have fun gaslighting her about it. the only cat who doesn't play along with that is goldenberry, mostly because he doesn't really think its that funny. gordon picks up survival skills from the clan cats fairly quickly, but they still call her soft all the time. classic clan cat anti-kittypet prejudice.

songfoot is the warrior code's biggest fan. not because he really fully believes in its utility, mostly because he loves bossing people around. you can find him stalking around thunderclan camp looking out for anyone doing minor infractions. god forbid you take too much fresh kill from the pile, you'll never hear the end of it. he can't really do much about it though, because snakestar finds him vaguely offputting. his signature stare doesn't help much. his fellow warriors generally like him despite all his strange quirks. songfoot has some kind of starclan-given power a la The Three... my thought is that his vocalizations have supernatural mind-altering properties. it's kinda like sweet voice, but a hiss can make others mad, a purr can make others calm, a screech can stun them, etc. without fail. he's vaguely aware of this power, and he doesn't really use it for things starclan would like him to. he kinda does his own thing.

he's a fairly competent hunter and fighter, but he's generally physically non-confrontational. during battle, he prefers to slink along in the shadows and wait to strike.

during the journey, he loves following gordon along. initially it's because of his deeply embedded distrust of kittypets, but he realizes pretty quickly that he's interested in her in a different sense, one that really frustrates and confuses him... a warrior shouldn't wanna be mates with a kittypet. that's so beyond wrong. he's gotta do everything he can to annoy gordon into leaving the group so he doesn't have to confront his feelings about her (one of these tactics involves him insisting on calling her "gordie," saying it sounds much more suitable for a kittypet). unfortunately for the both of them, that doesn't work. what's worse-- his powers don't seem to work on her for whatever reason. they continue to butt heads for far too long before either of them opens up about how they actually feel. (it takes gordon far longer to admit to herself that she's feeling that way than it does for songfoot, but eventually it clicks for her.)

("song" comes from sweet voice, and "foot" comes from... y'know. but i imagine the in-universe explanation is that he spends a lot of time padding around and watching people. the name from the post that inspired this one-- sweetsong-- is perfect but i didn't wanna copy it. i really like the name songfoot though, i think it's really cute.)

nectarbrook is thunderclan's beloved medicine cat. sweet and silly, she has an affinity for collecting and mixing herbs to create new tinctures. they don't always work exactly how she wants them to, but they never have strictly negative effects, so... not too bad! she spends most of her time on the journey trying and failing to be a mediator, and cowering in fear while everyone else does the scary (and often stupid) work. she's got an intelligence to rival gordon's, and she's one of the only cats gordon fully gets along with.

("nectar" is about the closest warrior cats prefix to "soda," and "brook" just kinda sounds nice as a suffix to nectar. it's another liquid-related word too.)

frostpaw is a bloodclan apprentice. he's well beyond apprentice age, but he's pretty incompetent at warrior duties and such, so it's taking him a while. he just wants to graduate.

i imagine he used to be a cushy kittypet with dreams of being one of those cool cat gang members he sees outside every now and again. he's way in over his head.

("frost" comes from forzen. obviously. i initially envisioned him as a warrior named frostjaw. i don't know why i chose that suffix other than it sounding nice. but then i remembered the "i just wanna graduate" thing, and thought it would be funny to make him an apprentice.)

goldenberry is a highly skilled warrior and one of snakestar's kits. he has a very unassuming demeanor, often appearing clumsy or head-in-the-clouds, but he's one of thunderclan's most precise and deadly fighters. his long windclan-like limbs allow for quick movement. like his father, he strikes like a snake. despite his prowess, he doesn't like fighting at all, and he would much rather hang around camp with his friend songfoot and take care of menial tasks like an apprentice or test out new herb tinctures for nectarbrook. he's very helpful and kind, if not a bit blunt. before snakestar died, he had goldenberry in mind as the next deputy as soon as galeheart finally kicked the bucket. he only didn't make him the deputy in the first place because he was an apprentice at the time.

("golden" comes from tommy's signature yellow, as well as his father's perception of him as highly important. "berry" comes from his general sillyness and his affinity for nectarbrook's various little treats.)

galeheart is a gregarious senior warrior and thunderclan's beloved deputy. despite his small stature, he's incredibly strong and overzealous. he loves his clan to death and he loves fighting even more, often dragging everyone into unnecessary squabbles just for the thrill of it. his loud, booming voice commands everyone's attention. he's quite old and really should be in the elders' den at this point, but his love for the warrior life keeps him going despite it all, and he's still in great shape. snakestar isn't quite so satisfied with galeheart's behavior, but there's not much he can do about that, given everyone else loves galeheart to bits. snakestar partially send him on that journey in hopes he would die already, but he has an unwavering spirit and he can and will outlive snakestar.

galeheart and gordon get along for the most part, but gordon is a little scared of him.

("gale" comes from coomer's general energy. he is a strong gust of wind to me. it also brings to mind the color white, which... is what galeheart is! "heart" also comes from his Vibes, mostly his fighting spirit.)

scorchtail is yet another old coot who should be getting ticks picked off of him by apprentices, but his stubbornness keeps him in his warrior position. he's not even particularly good at being a warrior-- he's cowardly and his battle strategy can best be described as the real life version of button-mashing. still, he's far too prideful to retire to the elders' den. he tends to follow galeheart around, since they grew up together and share similar positions in the clan. he's very antagonistic towards gordon, even moreso than songfoot. he has a special hatred of kittypets, seeing their lifestyle as an embarrassment.

("scorch" comes from bubby's association with fire as well as his sassy disposition, and "tail" comes from the tip of his tail looking burnt.)

snakestar is a starclan cat who was previously thunderclan's leader. he's generally cold and and analytical, and not much of a fighter, preferring to make others do his bidding. this behavior carried over very well to starclan, where he spends all his time being appropriately cryptic and unhelpful. he holds a lot of love for his one son, goldenberry, who he's always watching over. he doesn't care much for his other previous clanmates. he visits gordon in her dreams often to tell her vague things about her "part to play" and how important she is and all that. he arbitrarily decided that she was the subject of a prophecy, for the most part. i like to think starclan just makes shit up for fun. i think maybe one of his ancestors visited gordon when she was a kitten and made some kind of deal with her. i dunno. i'm in the very early stages of this au.

("snake" comes from gman's general vibes, but it's also an allusion to snakes in mythology [particularly abrahamic myth] being sleazy dealmakers with ill intent. before he was a leader, his suffix was "sight," alluding to his tendency to sit back and watch rather than run into battle.)

thanks for reading my long-ass ramblings, if you did! :-P idk if i'll actually do anything with any of this, but it's fun to think about...

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