I’m truthing argentinatural in this fine evening
I’m truthing argentinatural in this fine evening
things i forgot happened in supernatural
the thing about ballerina dean is that it isn’t just about processing his shit— he likes it!! he likes dancing! he likes the stretching and the way he can feel his muscles working; he likes using his body for something peaceful, something he enjoys. he likes his silly little spandex shorts and his big sleeveless muscle tees and his ballet slippers! and after a while, he gets himself a pair of pointe shoes because he’s pretty sure he’s got this whole balancing thing down by now, and he’s so excited when he finally stays on pointe for more than ten seconds that he calls sam down to come watch!!
dean does want to be independent but he wants to be independent as an Authority, not as an Individual. like he emulates his dad because he’s his dad and that’s the authority figure in his life, john is the one in charge and who knows best and dean is trying to get there because he needs to control everything because that is how he makes sure he and the people around him are safe. dean wants independence as a measure of worthiness and for the ability it gives him to control his world.
the billy elliot-esque ballerina dean montage set to cosmic dancer by t. rex that exists in my head… girl help, im crying over real-life nonfictional person dean winchester coming to terms with his traumas and identity via dance
I’m in season 2.
Ok, so they spent a lot of season 2 showing that Rory and Dean don’t have a lot in common. And I never liked him, tbh.
Then Jess comes on the scene and he has a lot in common with Rory- namely they can talk in depth about books. I also think it’s super interesting that Rory is literally the only person in Stars Hollow who he’s nice to and who he says more than 3 words to. Even the first time he met her and especially after he saw all of her books.
I really like the two of them together, but Lorelai is so valid in her concern because Jess fights with guys from school. He steals stuff (like Babbette’s gnome), he vandalizes, does shit to annoy the crap out of Dean…
But with Rory he’s different. and I ship them really hard.
Also, it’s weird how all these guys get crushes on Rory. like, she’s bookish and kind of awkward at school, and mainly cares about studying and getting into Harvard… This kind of person or character is normally the outcast. but like… dudes are fighting over her like Tristan and Dean?? and then Dean and Jess? like this is not realistic and a bit annoying, but anyway…
35 years ago a masterpiece was unleashed amongst the metal universe #metallica #masterofpuppets #35yearanniversary #masterpiece #rusty #playing #soloneedswork #dean #guitars #seymourduncan #razorback #guitar #sanrafael #cali #california #bayarea #northbay #norcal #guitarcover @metallica @james.hetfield @kirkhammett @robtrujillo @larsulrich (at San Rafael, California)
Crossover: We Have Always Lived in the Castle and Supernatural
Warnings: light violence, one curse word
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Charles Blackwood, Constance, Merricat, Uncle Julian
Summary: Sam and Dean catch wind of a case involving two sisters suspected of murdering their parents, and their estranged cousin, who visited with more than one purpose in mind.
AU where the Blackwoods are just very out of date, not in the 1960s but they basically forbid any sort of technology like phones in their house.
The moment he knocked on the door was the moment everything changed forever.
I was just a family friend who offered to help out the Blackwoods. At first, Merricat declined, but Constance eagerly accepted my help after their parents’ deaths and uncle’s paralysis. I understood that associating myself with the Blackwoods would bring trouble and gossip, but I didn’t care. I grew up with them as children; I was practically welcomed as an honorary sister. They meant so much to me, even though they were a bit of an odd family. After my parents died (my mother died when I was a baby under suspicious circumstances and my father abandoned me by the side of the road, leaving me to hitchhike to the nearest town) Constance suggested I move into Blackwood Manor to assist Julian, their paralyzed uncle and to aid the girls with basic household chores. I received the guest room, which was the room nearest to Merricat’s. She and I got along quite well, despite her distaste for outsiders, mainly due to the fact that I would alternate with Merricat when we needed to go into town, though sometimes I would tag along to defend her from the rude townsfolk who threw insults and threats at the poor girl. I knew she only wanted to protect her sister, not cause problems.
When Constance goaded Merricat to go into town on Wednesday, not Tuesday, which was her normal day to go, I knew something was amiss. As Constance ritualistically tied Merricat’s hair back and plopped a few coins in her hands, I offered to go with her. However, Constance deflected my offer and sent her sister out of the house. Slightly confused, I continued chopping vegetables for dinner, allowing Constance to tidy up the living room.
A knock sounded at the door, startling me to the point where I narrowly missed my thumb. I set the knife down, curious and concerned when I didn’t hear Constance answer the door.
“Constance?” I shouted. No answer.
I decided to take matters into my own hands and approach the door.
Swinging it open, I was met with hypnotizing blue eyes and a charming smirk dressed in an azure blue suit with a patterned tie. No doubt about it; he was handsome.
“Hi, how may I help you?” I asked in an overly kind tone.
The beautiful stranger grinned and looked me up and down.
“My name is Charles Blackwood. I’m Constance and Merricat’s cousin. I’ve come to visit them. May I come in?”
I stepped aside to open the door wider and let him in.
He glanced around the room, inspecting the house.
“It’s a beautiful house,” Charles commented.
“Yes, it is,” I agreed, a little on edge with this man in your home.
“What is your name?”
“My name is Briar,” I replied.
He looked at me expectantly.
“Is there a last name with that? Don’t tell me you’re a Blackwood,” he gasped.
“No, but I am living here with the girls as one of their own.”
“Oh, well, nice to meet you, Briar,” he drawled, pulling his hand out of his pocket to shake.
I stared at his outstretched hand before shaking it. He stopped and pressed a kiss to the top of your knuckles.
I slowly took my hand back just as Constance walked back in the room.
“Constance, this is your cousin, Charles Blackwood. He’s come to visit,” I explained, wary of her reaction.
“Oh, how nice! Come, sit in the parlor and I’ll make you some tea!” She practically bounced with excitement, gesturing to me to follow her into the kitchen.
“Connie, are you sure about this? He could be lying,” I worried.
“Oh, dear, don’t be so negative. I knew him right away. He looks just like Father.”
“If you’re sure,” I sighed.
“Yes, now go wash up and come out for tea. Merricat should be home soon.”
I did as she said and walked out to the parlor, taking a seat next to Constance. An idle sort of chatting settled between the two cousins as I grew more suspicious of the handsome man in my living room.
Suddenly, the door flew open and a frantic Merricat rushed inside, immediately rattling off about how Father’s book had fallen from the tree. I locked eyes with her and subtly shook my head, leading her with my eyes to look at the new guest.
Charles attempted to greet her, but she bolted out the door. I knew where she was going. She always hid in the woods when she was upset. Constance, Charles, and I stood there in silence as we assessed Merricat’s reaction to Charles’s entrance.
I dismissed myself and headed upstairs to bed, needing the night to process everything that had just occurred.
The next day, I helped Constance make breakfast for Charles and Julian. Relief flowed through me like a cool river when I saw Merricat come back in from the garden. I hugged her after she and Constance had a moment, just to let her know I cared too. She let me and even hugged me back.
The moment was shattered literally by Charles walking into the kitchen, which startled the cat into knocking a plate off the counter and onto the floor.
I offered to clean it up, despite Charles’s attempt to pick it up.
I noticed he was trying to bond with Merricat. If only he knew just how much she hated him…
Charles kept flashing his charming smile at Constance, Julian, and me. The former two fell for it, but I remained suspicious of his intentions.
After breakfast, we cleaned the house while Charles and Julian stayed outside in the garden.
As I tidied upstairs, I noticed that Charles was staying in their Father’s room. I saw no one was around, so I peeked inside, snooping, a family trait. I came across something that instinctively made me reach for my phone, which was buried away in my dress, unbeknownest to any of the Blackwoods. I took a picture of the questioning evidence and hesitated to send it to my first contact. Quickly, I shoved the device into my hidden pocket when I detected footsteps on the staircase. I pretended to wipe invisible dust off the dressers.
“Briar, what are you doing in here?” Charles startled me.
He waited for an answer as he stood propped up against the doorframe, smirking at me like he owned the place.
“I was cleaning the room for you to stay in, Charles,” I stated, lying through my teeth.
“Mhm, okay, well for future reference,” he moved closer to me as I took steps backwards. “Stay out of my room, Briar.” He glared at me with such intensity I felt exposed.
But my stupid mouth just couldn’t stay shut; again, a family trait.
“Or what?” I immediately regretted my decision when I saw his blue eyes darken and his face become stoic.
“Or I’ll make you regret it, brat,” he growled.
“Do not treat me like an inferior. I am every bit your equal and I have the power as a permanent resident of this house to kick you out, Charles,” I spat his name.
He grabbed my throat and pinned me to the wall, seething at me.
“You better learn your place, girl and respect me. I will own this house and you can’t do anything about it.”
“Wanna bet?” I smirked.
I aimed my kick at his jewels and swiftly wrenched myself out of his grip as he doubled over in pain.
“You bitch!” He screamed at me.
Quickly, I ran to my bathroom, locked the door, and whipped out my phone, pressing send to my first contact, finally making up my mind.
My only hopes of getting out of this alive were my brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester.
thinking about how absolutely inconceivable Cas’s lifespan is yet how he loves Dean makes me feel INSANE. You would think in the grand scheme of literally existence, that would make the love smaller, in some way, or in the very least bit just what it is: love. But no, because the significance screams across billions of years. Cas loves Dean and that’s what he’s known of love. And he creates these personal significances, loves the world in a way he always did but now can comprehend, and Dean is just it. He’s the screaming beacon across, what to a human like himself, seems like infinity. He just comes in like a lightning bolt, split second, timeframe, and Cas can no longer understand anything else like he has before.
sam would be that dumb kid who doesn’t like mole. also sam would love extra spicy food and dean would make it seem like he does (if you’re a man in mexico who doesn’t eat chile you’re dead) but he really can’t stand it
Tiny vodkas. Score.
i read a fan fic yesterday and they featured the barn where dean got killed in. Like Dean didn’t die in the fic but they heavily implied the death scene from the show, like referencing without referencing it ya know? and i kid you not it felt like someone just dunked a bucket of ice water over me and i just felt fucking awful all of a sudden. just the words “bad feeling” and “rebar” had everything in me screaming. it’s this heavy emotional reaction to feeling so emotionally betrayed and destroyed but you can’t compare it to anything
“I’m the one who will watch you murder the world” I’m gonna pass out
every day i think about the prisoner bc watching that shit live truly dealt me real psychic damage. the way cas only ever reaches for dean. he grabs his shoulder, he grabs his hand, he says please. and some part of that breaks through to dean. the cry for mercy wakes him up enough to spare cas. dear god.
My best friend is getting a couple of rats in a few days, and asked me if I wanted to help name them. I suggested Mephistopheles at the same time he said Ratchel.
Dean buys toddler Jack a tiny leather jacket, a small collection of plaid shirts and a pair of hunting boots. Jack immediately starts wearing them every single day for like two months straight and tries to act like Dean, listening to classic rock and talking in a deep voice and asking for pie at least twice a day. It’s safe to say Dean tears up when Jack says “look dad, I’m just like you!” In the squeakiest, most excited little voice.
(Cas takes pictures of them in their matching outfits and sends them to the family groupchat.)
“Sam, está bien, está bien. Aquí estoy. Aquí estoy. No te voy a dejar ¡No te voy a dejar!”
“Está bien, Dean. Todo va a estar bien. Lo tengo.”
Cas: You changed me, Dean. I love you.