Genuinely So Enraged We Didn’t Get To See Dean Flirt With Cas And Be Like “did It Hurt When You Fell

I've said this before but the thing about how destiel played out is that pre- and during 15x18 you can buy that Dean believes that him and Cas are best friends, that he just wants to be platonic best-friends-forever with this guy, and spend all sorts of time together and share all his favourite things with him and know that Cas is never very far away. As friends do.

But after 15x18. Dean processes what Cas said to him. That Cas loves him. Is in love with him. And he makes that part of who he is. He decides to be the man that Cas was in love with. That's what his parting line to Chuck was all about. And maybe he still doesn't think in terms of romance, because why would he, why would he torture himself with hypotheticals, Cas died and Cas loved him. And Dean can be that guy. He holds on to Cas' love. It's his. He makes it part of himself.

So then when he sees Cas again. And he’s confronted with what Cas loving him and wanting him means practically. What can he do? What else can he do besides love Cas back? When Cas' love is already part of him? How could he be anything else but in love with the guy?

on today’s episode of “Elon vs. the Internet”, Misha Collins enters the chat

obsessed with the fact that Dean and Cas could break heavens mind control with their love and John and Mary couldn’t even break a ghost possession

“average queerbait changes one thousand lives” factoid actually statistical error. queerbait georg who baited as hard as physically possible for twelve years and changed the lives of every tumblr user in 2020 was an outlier adn should not have been counted

Instructions unclear, sent a bowl of chocolate cereal.

Bucky Barnes x reader

You get your grumpy old man a smartphone. Chaos ensues.

.

.

.

Bucky suspiciously inspected the black rectangle between his fingers. “That’s not the phone I had in mind.” Of course, he had probably been thinking of a damn rotary phone when you suggested he needed something to keep in touch with people. You knew he had this weird relationship with modern technology, he was very wary of everything electronic and if he didn’t get the hang of it immediately he would just get frustrated. On the other hand, if he was able to figure it out himself he was openly proud of it, telling you how easy it was. You always had to walk the fine line between something enhanced enough that it was actually useful these days and simple enough that he wouldn’t become grumpy and pout about it while talking your ear off at how ‘the simpler times’ were called that for a reason.

A Smartphone was very very risky. Sure, you could’ve found an old flip phone or a Nokia brick but those things just hadn’t survived the test of time and according to your very professional opinion as his partner and self-proclaimed emotional support nuisance, this man desperately  needed to stay in contact with the few people he would call his friends.

Despite your worry you put on your most supportive smile and turned the phone in his hand so he held it right side up. “Try it at least, okay? It’s cool.” You tried to assure him. He didn’t have to do a lot, you already set it up for him and downloaded all the apps you deemed necessary, helpful or fun, you even turned on the accessibility option so he could navigate his phone with one hand since the metal one wouldn’t work on a screen and would probably also leave scratches, so all that was left for him was to explore his new toy. You guided his pointer finger to the side of the phone and let him press the little button which made the screen turn on. Bucky gave you an unsure glance before turning his attention back to the phone in his hand and just kinda…stared at it until the screen turned off again. For a moment you didn’t know what was going on until you realized that with Bucky, specificity was key. You shook your head to shoo away the previous confusion his behavior caused and shuffled closer to him. “Do it again.” You encouraged him. Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly.

Oh no.

You held your breath, waiting for him to potentially hand the phone right back to you and suggesting that writing letters would be enough. After what felt like a minute he finally pressed the button again and you quietly released your breath. “Great! Now you just need to drag your thumb gently over the screen and you’re good to go.” Bucky slowly followed your instructions and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him, his eyes lighting up. Still, he tried to play it cool. “Huh. That was easy.”

Not specific enough.

You looked at your phone and tried to make out what exactly Bucky had sent you. It must’ve been a picture of his face, right? You thought you could see the brown of his hair in this blurry mess but on the other hand it could also be…maybe a bowl of chocolate cereal? Some Chili, maybe? No, there was definitely too little red for it to be Chili.

The man recently learned how to text like a normal person, more or less, but you didn’t know he also kind of figured out how to send pictures. His picture moved upwards when another blurry mess appeared in your chat. You squinted your eyes at the new picture, it was mostly white with some grey stripe in the middle. You gave up, no way you could figure out what the hell that one was.

Bucky…what is that? You typed out. The next message he sent you gave you move questions than answers.

I need a new phone. That was impossible, his smartphone was less than three days old. Sure, it could’ve cracked but you were sure he would’ve told you about that.

What’s wrong with your phone? Maybe I can help? You suggested. You didn’t have to wait for an answer too long.

Yes, please. You quietly chuckled to yourself, half amused by his struggles, half compassionate of them. You decided it would be best to talk to him face to face so you raked your fingers through your hair a few times to hide the fact that you’ve been hanging around in your bed for the last few hours and clicked the video call option on your screen. It rang and rang and…rang…until finally your screen lit up, or dulled down because all you could see was darkness with a touch of a chestnut color. You should’ve known that this would happen.

“Bucky, it’s a video call.” You informed him and watched as he pulled the phone away from his ear and instead looked at his screen, his brows furrowed like he always did when he lost a fight against technology. “Oh…” He grumbled.

“So, what’s wrong with your phone?” Bucky pressed his lips together, his eyes looking anywhere but at his phone.

“Bucky?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Bucky let out a sigh and wiped his face with his right hand but you could see the slight blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.

“Was anyone going to tell me that there are two cameras? Why the hell would anyone need two?” You saw him lean against the headrest and turn his head to the side with an annoyed expression. Your heart melted a little bit, you couldn’t help but find it endearing at how clueless he was when it came to things that were common knowledge to you.

“James, stop pouting.” There was a tone of amusement in your voice even though you tried to feign sternness. Bucky’s head shot back towards where he could see you on the screen in his hand and blinked a few times as if he was trying to comprehend what you just said. You never really called him by his first name and his reaction made you clench your jaw and hold your breath so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You asked innocently and batted your lashes towards your camera. Bucky narrowed his eyes but couldn’t suppress the little smile that was tugging on the corners of his mouth. You grinned triumphantly, happy that you could at least lighten his mood a little bit. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You finally said and playfully scrunched your nose. “So was that it? Did you have a problem taking pictures because you tried to take them with the outer camera?” Buckys smile slightly faltered but he chuckled nonetheless.

“Yeah, I guess. Sorry to be a bother with all the…you know, modern stuff, I-“ You cut him off immediately. “Don’t you dare apologize for that, you’re still learning and I’m happy to help. Hey, I’m very proud of you for making it work with the phone.” Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly but you could see his eyes soften. “I try.”

You continued talking to him for a while about nothing in particular until you decided that you both needed some rest and hung up. It was merely twenty minutes later, you just settled down and closed your eyes when your phone vibrated. A message from Bucky. You curiously opened the message to see if he had any more problems but instead your lips curled into a big, bright smile.

He sent you a picture, this time you could fully make out what it was, a photo of a shirtless Bucky laying on his couch, his eyes crinkled as he wore a proud grin with the caption I figured it out!

__________

Tag list: @lunaroserites

Before You Go

Dean Winchester x Reader

WC: 2.4K

Summary: Dean came to say goodbye. He can't continue the situationship you two have shared for a couple years. Its getting to hard. Will he listen to your plea or let you walk away?

A/N: I need some angst, I needed to get some personal things out. Thankfully Dean Winchester was able to oblige me and help me work these things out with this short fic. Was listening to "Before You Go" by Lewis Capaldi alot with this fic.

“You don’t get it, Dean.” 

“Try me.”

“Why? What good could it do? You show up into my life like a goddamn tornado. I got so swept up in you. Then you’d leave. I understood why. Hell, I still do. But can’t you understand what it does to me every time you leave? How it breaks me… Not just my heart, Dean. It breaks ME!”

“I told you what my life was…”

“I know that! I accept that! I accept you… every part of you. I love you for YOU. I don’t care that you drink too much, drive too fast. I don’t care that you risk your life just by being alive and walking around. I accept that you battle demons.”

“I don’t want one of those demons tearing you apart!”

“No… not the black eyed demons. I know they are always after you. I am talking about your demons. Your insecurities and doubts about the kind of man you are. That you don’t deserve the good things. That you don’t deserve someone to love you, unconditionally and forever. Those are the demons that break me, Dean. The other ones, they can’t do half the damage that you do to yourself.”

Dean was quiet. He hated how she could always make him feel, something. Whether it was belief in himself, or how she was able to take any sort of pain away from him; she just made him feel. He asked himself a dozen times in the last couple of years if he was wrong for not staying and trying to find a way to make it work. If there could be a balance of his life’s work and having a life with someone, she would be that someone. 

He hated how her bottom lip quivered with all the pain that was shaking from her heart. He hated how her eyes were wide and full of tears ready to fall. “Dean…” He hated how small her voice sounded when she said his name.

“I want to give you everything.” He wasn’t even sure if the words were audible. His throat had gone completely dry. “I think about you every damn day. Wonder if I am being a stubborn ass by not getting in my car and going a thousand miles in whatever direction you are.”

“So, what stops you then?”

“I stop me! I have too! I tell myself you’re better off without me around–”

“I’m not! I’m not better without you! That’s what I am trying to get through that thick head of yours. I would rather have you for whatever time fate allows, then none at all. And I see it in the way you look at me, you want that too!”

Dean hung his head to his chest. Goddamn her and how she could see through all the layers of defense he attempted to hide behind. “And I would rather know you’re alive and without me, then to be a selfish dick and have you, but know that some ugly ass thing is going to kill you because I’m around!”

“And I don’t see what kind of life I have unless I have you,” she whispered. 

He could see she was angry, but it went far beyond that. She was being raw. She was bearing her truth and the deepest feelings to him, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability that was held completely in his hands. 

“I need you, Dean. You–you make things better. You make ME better.”

Her words pierced his armor and somehow found their way in. “You do that for me, too.”

She took a few tentative steps closer to him, and his initial reaction was to step back. If he let her get too close, he would buckle completely. His resolve wasn’t that strong especially where she was involved. Dean had been at his happiest any of the time he had spent with her. She was easy going, and fit into his life in a way that he never thought would be possible. She was fierce and full of fire, but when the lights were out and it was just the two of them whispering in the dark, she had a softness and delicate nature that he craved. She was the perfect balance of sugar and spice to his mostly bitter life.

“I don’t know what to do here, (Y/N). I have this weight on my shoulders, one I never asked for, never agreed to take on. And even when it's fixed or resolved, there’s another–something–to take its place. Sometimes I don’t even get a chance to breathe. How is that fair to you? You deserve so much better.”

“What if I accept all that, and still want what I want? I want to be that breath for you. That safe place you can hide when everything gets too heavy. Forget what you think I deserve. When does what I want matter? I want you. End of story.”

She was so close; the closest he had been to her in months. He could easily reach out and touch her just like he dreamt he had so many nights before. Part of him longed for it, the other part, the rational thinking part, condemned him for it. Stumbling into (Y/N)’s life was a complete accident. It wasn’t a job, it wasn’t an end-of-the-world type of crisis. It was a simple twist of fate that they had met. She was in the wrong place at the right time and their paths crossed. He figured she would just be another one-night good time, then he and Sam would move on just like it had gone for all his adult life. She wasn’t. After that first night together, he was stuck with her essence and it clung to him for months. The second time they met was also by chance. He had to do a double take and make sure he was really seeing her, hundreds of miles from where they first met. 

(Y/N) had seen him and had the same kind of reaction. She didn’t have many regrets in life, but letting Dean leave the morning after with no way to contact each other, was a big one. Sure, best sex of her life, but there was something about the man himself she couldn’t shake. That second meeting, she approached him and threw her arms up around his neck. Dean didn’t take more than a second to return the hug and instantly feel okay again. All the pain of the work in the weeks leading up to that moment had washed away, and all there was, was her. 

Two nights together that time. They righted some wrongs and exchanged numbers that time. From that night on, every couple months for the next two years they would spend stolen weekends meeting somewhere. They would talk and touch and laugh and hold each other. When he finally told her the truth about his life, she listened without judgment and seemed to accept it all. She understood why he was always leaving. Never once gave him a hard time about it, yet always accepted him with open arms when he was able to see her again. 

The flash of memories they shared cycled through his thoughts in a matter of moments. He was close enough to lean his head down and press his forehead to hers. His hands rested gently on the top of her shoulders and he took in a deep breath through his nose, catching a whiff of her sandalwood shampoo. The lump in his throat prevented him from speaking, but he wanted to. He wanted to say so many things to her, but he couldn’t. He was desperate to tell her that he was falling in love with her; that he wanted to stay when every fiber of his being urged him to leave. He wanted to rebel, and stay. For once, Dean wanted to get what he wanted, too. It was there, standing right in front of him. 

“Dean…” The way she said his name reverberated through him even though it was barely a whisper. “Please stay. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

He caved. He couldn’t resist her when she was like this; real and raw and vulnerable as hell. He bent down and kissed her. There was no hope for either of them once their lips touched again. She was completely human, but she was full of magic. The simplest touch of her on him and he didn’t know which way was up or down. All he knew was that he needed her. He had come to her that time to say it was over, that he wouldn’t be able to see her anymore. Too much was happening in his life for it to ever be safe for them to be together. He begged her to listen to him and understand why it had to be that way. She didn’t understand and refused to accept his decision. Part of him hated her for making it so difficult, but the duality in his heart also screamed at him that he was being a stubborn asshole. 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and reluctantly pulled back from her, though their lips were still nearly touching. “I can’t…”

She slowly shook her head and took a step back from him. His heart immediately cracked a bit more. “You’re a brave man, Dean Winchester. You fight some of the most disturbing, scary things this world has in its closet, but you will never be brave enough to fight for me.”

“I am fighting for you, I am fighting to keep you safe.” He was angry, but his tone was calm and soft. “I wish you could understand.”

“And I wish you could understand me. But you can't, so I guess I have to find some way to let you go.” He wanted to scream and tell her no, that’s not what he wanted. Farthest thing from what he wanted, in fact. “I will always think of you as my person, Dean. And if there comes a day where you could be brave enough to try with me… to really try, even if it means you still hunt, I’ll be here. ‘Cause honestly, no man could ever be as right for me as you are. And I won’t settle for less than I want.”

She turned to leave. Each step she took away from him, his panic grew. Fear gripped Dean like it hadn’t before. All that he had experienced in the past, fear of losing his brother, his friends, his own life… the fear of losing her was shocking and it was imminent. A flash of memories hit him again, and something inside him broke; the last of his defenses were gone along with his resolve.

His hand darted out, grabbing her arm and turning her back around. He felt primal, like he had so many times before in his life. His need for her was overwhelming and he gave in to all the impulses he tried to fight for so long.

“No,” he said and pulled (Y/N) closer. “You’re right, we should get what we want. You more than anyone, and if I am what you want, you can have me.” His words were hoarse and low, but she didn’t miss any of it. “‘Cause I want you. Hell, I need you. I hate that I do, but I can’t fight it anymore. I can’t lose you.”

He cradled her tear-streaked face in his hands, and when he looked into her eyes, he saw everything he was afraid of; a future. She wrapped her fingers around his hands, and moved them from her face. She was wary of his sudden change of mind, but it didn’t seem to matter because her lips grew into a soft smile. 

“What changed?”

Dean knew he had to be just as vulnerable as she had been with him. If this was going to work, he needed to give her the truth. “The idea of you not being there doesn’t sit well with me. Yeah, there’s still a very good possibility that this could end bloody. But when you went to walk away just now, knowing this would be the last time I saw you, it felt just as bad as if it ended in death. That probably sounds–”

“Insane? It does, but that’s what I’ve been saying, Dean. This, what we have here, this is what life is about. It's not always going to be easy. Sometimes it's going to be scary, or bloody, but it's goddamn worth it if in the moments in between we have each other.”

“So what now? How do we do this?”

(Y/N) gave him a shrug of one shoulder, then laced her fingers through his, pulling him closer. “We start with this.” She got on her toes to reach up and kiss him. “Then, we take each day as it comes. But we do it together. We take this leap of faith that no matter what happens, we’ll handle it. I will learn to defend myself against every ugly thing that goes bump in the night, and you learn to talk to me when things get dark inside you. And in the quiet moments, we live our lives. Whatever that looks like to you, I’m in.”

“And if it gets to be too much?”

“Then, we fight. We fight for what we want. If we are only ever fighting to survive, what kind of life are we fighting to keep?”

Dean thought about what she was saying, and something inside him felt free. Like whatever it was that prevented him from believing he deserved anything good, dislodged and evaporated. He was worthy of all the good things life had to offer, and she was the best of them all. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Fighting for me. For us.”

“I’ll always fight for us, Dean. You’re worth fighting for. One day, maybe you’ll see that for yourself. Until then, all I can do is love you enough for both of us.”

“I’m gettin’ there, sweetheart. Just keep doing what you do best.”

“And that is?”

“Being braver than I could ever be.”

(Y/N) melted into his arms and found no good reason to move away from them. Dean closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head. She fit into him so perfectly, he felt that maybe he did find the missing puzzle piece. He thought that maybe despite the big picture of the life he had been destined to live, it wouldn’t be that bad now that he was complete with her by his side.

Tags:

@wings-of-a-raven @kazosa @deansbabymomma @hobby277 @breereadsthings @maddiepants @screechingartisancashbailiff @cloverhighfive @linki-locks11 @stoneyggirl @clarinette07 @lefthologramdeer @destielhoneybee @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathofmissjackson @akshi8278 @rebelminxy @fictionalabyss @blackcherrywhiskey @his-paradox @destielhoneybee @donnaintx @squirrelnotsam @weepingwillowphoenix @austin-winchester67 @krazykelly @igotmadskills @lovealways-j

Castiel is the only thing real in Dean's life. Everything else was wrote in the way Chuck felt was more appropriate. Mother, father, brother, with the story unfolding in the directions he set. They did what they were told, Chuck said, but not you, not you, not you, Castiel.

When Dean asks "what about all of this is real?" and Castiel answers "we are", he was right.

An elaboration/clarification in response to this explanation of how Bucky's prosthetic functions, based on breakthroughs in the field of biotechnology that have been getting mainstream attention in recent years. Namely: Neuromusculoskeletal prosthetic technology, also known colloquially as 'bionic arms'.

While Bucky's prosthetic more advanced because it uses comic book science, this information is helpful all the same; especially for people writing his character (and if you are, I encourage you to research this technology and get a grasp of the fundamentals).

To start, the socket is osseointegrated. This in itself is not new a new surgical technique and is a long-established method of amputation. What osseointegration means is the socket that prosthetic attaches (or 'anchors') to is integrated into/fused with Bucky's bones.

Now, how do these prosthetics move and feel? Here is a brief, but informative explanation targeted at laypeople:

*stumbles out of a building covered in blood* i failed a social interaction .