Dean wasn’t sure where he was. It looked like a Motel he was stood in front of but it’s not one he’s familiar with.
He was here for a reason. He knew that much.
Something had lead him here.
“Dean…”
He turned his head in the direction he thought he head his name being called.
Nothing was there.
He ventured a little further and discovered his Impala was parked up in front of him.
No Sam.
The passenger side door of Dean’s Baby popped open and Dean’s breath left his body in a whoosh.
“Hey handsome.” Dean heard you say as you stepped in front of the car and lent against the front.
You weren’t wearing any clothing.
Nothing.
Dean thought he felt some drool rolling down the corner of his lips and his heart and blood picked up pace.
Damn, you’re beautiful.
You both are.
A loud noise startled Dean awake, he hadn’t realised he had fallen asleep behind the wheel of the Impala, a quick look around and he saw you approaching the car from the take-out place you had been to order some food for the three of you.
Dean was looking forward to going to sleep when they got the Motel, he really wanted to finish what had started.
cut to Sam and Dean eating on the impala outside a food truck
Sam: so get this a random person across the country died
Dean: ok but it’s probably not our thing
*it is their thing*
Scene change: Dean and Sam walking outside
Dean or Sam: hey do you really think we should be taking this case, considering the season’s overarching plot line?
Dean or Sam: we’ve got no leads so I’ve got to work or I’ll go crazy
Dean: hello sheriff pay no attention to the fact we look like supermodels, have ridiculous names on these clearly fake FBI badges and my brother has the same hair style as Jackie Kennedy and give us all the info on this case
random sheriff: this case? Why you FBI boys are wasting your time. There isn’t a case here.
Visibly shaken white woman holding baby: this isn’t like (random person) I just can’t believe it
Dean: did you hear or smell anything weird? Sulfur? Cold spots? These are very official FBI questions.
Visibly shaken white woman holding baby: Of course, agents. Look I’ve told you everything I know, except for this mysterious hint.
*Sam swallows and looks at Dean*
*Scene change*
*Impala pulls into motel*
*research*
Sam: I think it’s this thing
*it’s not that thing*
Sam: get this, I think we’re dealing with this thing.
Dean: That’s great Sammy but I think I know where the thing is going to be
Monster: attacks visibly shaken white woman holding baby
*Sam and Dean arrive just before visibly shaken white woman holding baby passes out
Monster: *chokes Sam*
*Camera shot of Sam’s face as he is being chocked*
If only Sam could reach the phone/ knife/ gun!!!!
Sam: *eyes roll back into head*
Dean: arrives in the nick of time and kills monster
Visibly shaken white woman hugs baby, she is teary-eyed: “so you’re telling me monsters are real??? Thank you for saving us!!! If only you could have saved that random person. I guess I’ll have to move on now.”
*scene change, Sam and Dean in Impala*
Dean or Sam: that was the right thing to do
Dean or Sam: but was it
Dean or Sam: sometimes you can’t save everyone.
*implication that story of random person is the same as Sam/ Dean’s season plot line issue
and the writers have said that the reason they killed her was because the fandom did not like and appreciate her, and they got lost of hate mails for it. they created Jo to be the female version of Dean. good goddamn way to go, supernatural fandom
I just saw this episode, and I cried because she died. She was one of my favorite characters.
I’m rewatching supernatural and God I forgot how hard Bobby’s death hurts. It’s probably the most emotionally damaging one in the shower other than probably Kevin or Charlie
Summary: Have you ever felt like you’re too far up your fandoms that you’re not really living your real life? Well, that. But more.
Word Count: 1,817
Pairings: Dean x reader, Sherlock x reader
Warnings: You’re not gonna like it. Sudden fandom changes, bit of smut which is not really smutty, lazy writing, suicidal attempt, usage of drugs and alcohol, OOC scenes.
Original A/N: Because of who I am, I like to exaggerate everything. With that being said, let me tell you that this is how I felt for many years, with multiple fandoms. I have lived a tortous life, therefore I was always seeking to live somewhere else. Almost all of my childhood and teenage years were an on-going loop between my fake life inside my fandoms and my real life. I barely remember anything now outside that make-pretend life I created for myself. Now I am living my life, in a way that I can no longer hide inside that fake life. Call it what you want. Anxiety is coming back to me, fyi, and I tried to hide there but I just can’t. This is my way of expressing it. The Girl, Interrupted theme is because I watched it yesterday after performing Lisa’s monologue at my acting class - a way of giving therapy to myself through art. Anyway, I hope you don’t read this fic. I didn’t like it at all, but I feel the need, nonetheless, to share it somewhere. To have evidence that I went through that. Probably, someone out there has too. Idk.
New A/N: I wrote this MONTHS ago, long before I got diagnosed, and I got scared of posting it because it could be too depressing. But I hate leaving drafts all alone so here goes nothing.
Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought you were moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy… Maybe it was loneliness…
“Put her in restraints!” A woman yelled. “Withdraw blood… Give her five milligrams of Valium, IV”
“Turn her head so she doesn’t aspirate,” another woman advised. I felt my head being turned by a pair of terribly warm hands.
I was attacked. I had been attacked.
“You should check my hand. There’s no bones in it anymore…”
“What were you thinking?” The first woman asked.
“I was trying to save the world…” I replied, “Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later.”
Sometimes it’s hard for me to stay in one place.
“Hey,” I opened my eyes at the familiar voice. The image at first was blurry, but I could recognize the colors of their flannel shirts. My back was killing me, and my arms felt numb. “(Y/N) are you okay?”
“Yo, sweetheart! Wake up!” A rough voice called out. I could see his red flannel.
Red flannel. Dean was wearing a red flannel, and Sam had the green one. That could only mean one thing…
I looked down at my own clothes, I was wearing a brown flannel.
I smiled childishly, and my vision finally cleared. Both men were staring at me, worried. “I’m home,” is all I could say.
Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, Sam smiled back at me.
“Yes, you are,” he said, “you’re home with us. Where else would you be?”
“At a hospital or some shit,” I replied.
“We don’t do no hospitals, sweetheart,” Dean reminded me from afar.
“Did we get him? The djinn?” I inquired, with wide eyes.
“Yup,” Sam nodded.
Dean appeared back again, handing me a cold beer. It was closed. Sam took my hand and guided it to my forehead, so I could press the bottle to my forehead. I was probably wounded there too.
“We Jafar-ed the shit out of him,” Dean snorted. Sam inhaled profoundly, as an attempt to not slap his brother. “I Jas-min that we almost didn’t make it…” Dean continued, “but enough Abu me,” he giggled, “how was your daydream, sweetheart? Where’d Iago?”
“Please, stop,” Sam begged. Dean tried to argue but Sam was already looking back at me. “But do tell us where did you go?”
“I…”
“Where did you go?”
“(Y/N)” a strong light blinded me for a second. I suddenly felt something in my eyes, pulling them open. “(Y/N), we’re calling you!” The voice chanted. “Hello, Earth requires Ms (Y/N)…”
“Wha-what?” I stuttered, pulling away from the light.
The scenery had changed. I was no longer at a motel room with awful wallpaper, but instead at a very nice living room, though the wallpaper was still awful.
“Are you okay?” The man that had been calling my name asked. He kneeled in front of me.
“Are you real?” I tilted my head to the side, and he smiled tenderly.
“As real as your nose,” he said and booped my nose. His touch was soft and warm.
“What happened?”
“You fainted,” another voice answered. I looked back, only to see the familiar figure of Sherlock sitting on his desk, typing furiously on his computer. “I told you not to get too close to the evidence, but did you listen? No, why?” He gazed back, “Because ‘oh Sherlock, don’t be so stern, it’s just a flower bouquet!’ but I was right, as usual.”
“Let her breath,” Watson commanded. “We both smelled it too and nothing bad happened.”
“Yes, but so did the police officers… All male, I must remind you” Sherlock snapped. “The flowers were sent to a woman who, where is she now? Oh, yes, DEAD!”
“I don’t get it,” I interfered.
“I suspect the flowers are poisoned with some sort of chemical that only affects women, by reacting to their production of hormones.” Sherlock informed me.
“Right… And what does that have to do with your intoxication?” The female voice asked again.
I suddenly snapped back to the hospital. I was laying in a hospital bed, with lots of tubles connected to me. There was a woman in white, sitting by my side with a notepad on her lap.
“Well, obviously I’ve been affected… It’s the flowers, you see…” I spoke.
“Flowers? What flowers?” The nurse, she was a nurse, asked again.
“The poisoned flowers!”
“Do you see them now?” She inquired.
“Of course not!”
“No?”
The djinn stood behind her. “Say no,” he said with an ominous voice.
“No,” I obeyed.
The nurse looked behind her and the djinn disappeared instantly. “Are you seeing anything out of the ordinary at the moment?”
“No, why would I? I’m not crazy,”
“At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were…” Dean sighed. He was sitting by my side, in bed, and was connecting his phone to the charger. “I am a little crazy too, you know?”
“Oh, yeah?” I trembled.
“Yeah,” he muttered and finally let go off his phone. He turned to look at me for a second before cuddling me. I was the small spoon, he was shirtless. “I’m crazy about you.”
“Smooth,” I replied sheepishly. I could feel the ghost of his arms around me… Ghost, because I couldn’t really feel him. He was hot, yet cold as if air was blowing over my skin.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked.
“I am.”
I wasn’t. I’m not okay.
“Good night, sweetheart,” he whispered and pecked my shoulder. Again, I felt it but not quite.
“Dean?”
“Huh?” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what would happen after I said what I wnated to say.
“I feel like I’m still inside the djinn’s daydream,” I confessed.
Dean sat up and fixed a lose strand of hair that was falling over my eyes.
“You’re not inside a djinn’s daydream…” He said, calmly.
“How can you tell?” I asked, still not opening my eyes.
“Because djinns don’t exist, that’s why,” he said.
I finally opened my eyes. Black locks and blue eyes were all I could see for a moment.
“Djinns are mythological, and that is all…” Sherlock continued. I could hear his voice turning from Dean’s to his own. “I understand that maybe the toxins from the flowers could affect your perception of life, but there is nothing to fear. The effects will pass and you’ll be good as new.”
“I don’t feel good as new.”
“Clearly,” he grunted.
Noticing my state, he decided to go a little further from his usual behaviour. He pressed his head to my arm… I was still laying on my side, as if I was still being the small spoon.
“I will be here, by your side, as long as you let me.”
My heart fluttered, but not in love but rather in pain.
“I can’t control that.”
“The pills are having a positive effect on her now, we can get her to be conscious for a bit longer than before…” I heard a voice coming from the hall.
“What is that?” I asked. Sherlock tilted his head.
“What?” He furrowed, “I don’t hear anything.”
“Well, I do.”
I got up from bed and opened the door. At the other side of it was a hospital hall rather than Sherlock’s. All white, with blinding white lights. The nurse was talking to what I assumed was a doctor.
I felt like I would faint again.
Sherlock got up as well and dragged me back to the bed, closing the door behind us.
“You know what could help?” He smirked. “I know… Because I know you.”
He got me back in bed, facing up to the ceiling. I was about to talk, when I felt him pulling down my pijama shorts. A sigh left my lips, as I felt his tongue rubbing my clit in circles. I closed my eyes, filled with pleasure, and tried to keep it quiet so neither Mrs Hudson nor Watson could hear us.
“Come here,” I begged after a while.
I opened my eyes and saw Dean crawling up to my face. His tattoo was covered in sweat and his hair was ruffled.
“You thought I would just leave it there, sweetheart?” He flirted and, without a warning, he thrust inside me. “You feel good today… Tight, and so wet for me…”
I moaned, getting lost in his green eyes. I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn’t.
I didn’t even feel his weight over me.
I blinked.
TARDIS.
I blinked again.
Dean was looking at me, dumbfounded as he made love to me.
I shook my head and closed my eyes again, letting my body fall back into the pillows as I succumbed to the pleasure he… they were giving me. I called both of their names in between whispers until I climaxed.
I sighed and opened my eyes.
I was in my room. Darkness surrounded me. I was alone, and my fingers were still between my legs.
I wiped them quickly with the bed sheets and took my phone to googled Dean Winchester’s name, only to find out that he was not being looked at by the US government, but rather a fictional character. Not only that, but I saw pictures of him in the most intimate moments… Moments I could recall from living them with him.
I clicked on one of his pictures.
Jensen Ackles… Married.
I clicked on Sam’s.
Married.
I clicked on Castiel’s.
Married.
They were all married. Click by click I undercovered the lie I was living in.
“But what about Sher?” I thought to myself.
I googled him. Fictional character, based on the books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
There he was, my Sherlock, next to others who had also played him.
“I thought I was in a hospital,” I whispered.
“Maybe it’s just your unconscious mind asking to be treated by a professional.” Castiel’s voice spoke.
“Maybe it’s because that is where you’re going,” Sam gestured to the side of my bed. A bottle of vodka laid there empty, next to empty sets of aspirins.
“Is there an end to this?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Jim Moriarty spoke from the darkness. “But aren’t you having fun?”
“What if I die?” I insisted.
“You won’t,” Sherlock said, “you still got enough energy to call an ambulance for yourself.”
“Please do,” Watson begged softly.
I grabbed my phone and dialed the number.
“I need an ambulance…”
“We’ll see you on the other side, sweetheart.” Dean smiled with a glimpse of sadness.
“I love you, guys.”
Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought you were moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy… Maybe it was loneliness… Or maybe I was just a fangirl… Interrupted.
Requested by anon: Sam and Dean return back to the bunker after a hunt, were they had to kill a witch, and the reader is waiting for them- they’ve been gone for a few days and they’re anxious. When she see’s Sam she immediately kisses him (they’re dating), however what she doesn’t know is that the witch cursed the boys and they’ve switched bodies. So, she’s kissing Dean not Sam.
Warnings: It’s shitty.
Word count: 768
A/N: I haven’t watched Supernatural in at least two years, so I’M SORRY. I literally felt as if I was learning how to ride a bike or something like that cuz this is no longer me. :( So I hope it doesn’t suck that much. I’m sorry for ripping that request apart. I really tried my best.
Enjoy, I guess.
The loud roar from the Impala followed by a short silence announced the return of the Winchesters to the bunker. They had been out on a witch hunt that had apparently succeeded and know it was their time to rest – that is only IF they decided to rest.
(Y/N) had anxiously waited for them to come back. Specifically, she had been waiting for Sam.
She headed outside, not being able to wait for them to come inside, and ran straight towards Sam. He had been taking their bags out of the trunk when he got tackled by his girlfriend.
Without hesitation, (Y/N) puckered up and kissed him as if it had been years since she’d seen him – a habit she had acquired a long time ago. Sam, however, did not respond as she expected.
His lips remained still and his eyes widened. He held her tightly and pushed her away.
Dean followed quickly, holding (Y/N) softly from behind while Sam got up.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His puppy eyed mode was suddenly on.
“What?” (Y/N) panicked. “What is going on?”
Dean swallowed loudly and looked at (Y/N) for a second before looking directly to his brother. Sam hesitated, not knowing how to say what he meant to say.
“Oh my God, I knew it!” (Y/N) spoke. Her eyes were wide and full of shock.
“You do?” Sam asked, feeling a sudden relief. “Thank God, I thought this would be harder but if you know…”
“Yeah, it’s better that way,” Dean nodded and let go off (Y/N)’s arms.
“I should’ve known before, you don’t act like yourself and…” (Y/N) continued.
“Yes! I know!” Sam cheered, “See? I knew you would get it.”
Of course she got it. Sam hadn’t been the same ever since Castiel left. She didn’t think it would affect him as much as it would affect Dean, but truth was Sam did feel terribly after he left.
She had tried to be a good companion, she had tried to help Sam feel supported, she had really tried her best. Maybe it wasn’t enough.
The Winchesters always acted like that. If one friend left them, then they didn’t want any friend at all… Maybe Sam was feeling like she would leave too, just like Castiel, in spite of loving him.
She loved him. She really loved him and Sam was probably thinking she didn’t and so he was breaking up with her.
“Fine,” she said. Her head was now clear. “I… I tried my best, but I respect your choice.”
Sam suddenly looked even more confused.
“I will go and pack my stuff,” she said. “You are a good man, Sam,” she patted her shoulder and went back inside. Neither of the Winchesters followed her, they were gobsmacked and unable to even walk.
She went inside her shared room with Sam, refusing to shed a single tear in front of them, and took out her backpack from the closet.
How could she pack so many memories in just one backpack? She had built her home next to Sam and now…
Sam and Dean stormed inside the room.
“It’s not what you think it is!” Dean yelled, calling (Y/N)’s attention.
“What?” (Y/N) shrugged.
“You think that I… That Sam is breaking up with you, right?” Dean stuttered.
“Well, obviously, because…”
“He’s not.” Dean interrupted and cleared his throat. “I’m not.”
“What?”
“(Y/N),” Sam spoke, “I’m not Sam.”
“What do you mean?” (Y/N) stepped back.
“I am,” Dean stated.
(Y/N) stared at them in shock and then burst in laughter.
“The witch we killed cursed us as she died…” Dean continued to explain, “so now I’m Sam and he’s Dean, but me Sam is he Dean and he Dean is me Sam…”
“So… I kissed Dean?” (Y/N) inquired.
“Yes.”
“Dean in Sam’s body?”
“Yes.”
“That’s just…” (Y/N) shrugged in disgust. “So we’re not breaking up?”
“No, I would never,” Dean (Sam) shook his head and gave her his best Dean dreamy eyes.
“Oh, thank God!” She threw herself once more into his arms… Except those were Dean’s arms, and sighed.
Sam, in Dean’s body, kissed her passionately while Dean, in Sam’s body, just stared in awe. He always wondered how he’d look like with (Y/N). Not that liked her, it was just for funsies.
(Y/N) pulled away.
“This is too weird…” She said, “We must fix this.”
Both brothers agreed.
One call and thirty minutes later, the Winchesters were all set. It was not a hard curse to cast, therefore not a hard curse to remove.
“So (Y/N),” Dean inquired during dinner, “who’s a better kisser: me or Sam?”
-
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So I started watching Supernatural on Netflix so I could watch it at the same time as my bf (long distance relationship), and they replaced ALL of the fucking music. Like a song started playing while watching Bloody Mary and I immediately got squinty eyed, like “wait a fucking minute.”
Like, one of the best parts about SPN is the music because they get classic rock and shit. But now anyone seeing it for the first time on Netflix, is getting these shitty replacement songs. Like, they don’t even fit the tone that the original songs set.
I am so mad right now, way more mad than I should be but god damn.
Posting this here because I know a bunch of blogs like @slagartehfox started watching on Netflix recently, and I can’t help but think of them and the subpar experience they’re getting.
My heart goes out to you guys it really does.
-Espeon
Where do you live?
Here in the US all the classic rock is intacted including a fairly long montage set to “Run Through the Jungle” and tons of classic rock and metal Dean plays son the car radio.
I don’t who it was, but one episode also plays a pretty cool fantasy-themed power metal song called “Stonehenge”
They also have “Back in Time” in the Groundhog Day episode.
Isn’t that the episode with the trickster?
Yes, it’s the second trickster episode.He’s the one that puts Sam in the loop.
I live in Canada, but the Netflix I have is American (or at least it should be, since it’s my partner’s and they live in America.) It pleases me to know that the music is still intact in some places though. the whole opening of “Skin” was ruined because they replaced Inagaddadavida with some indie band sounding BS.
Also awww Andy, miss that dude. And I can’t wait until you see the Trickster again (if you haven’t already). Good shit.
-Espeon
It doesn’t matter where your subscription is, Netflix delivers your content by figuring out where you are. That’s why there’s been such a big stink over the proxy server blocks. (I forget what they are actually called).
Ahhhh, okay, that explains a lot.
So Canadian Netflix doesn’t have the proper music for Supernatural, but we have Doctor Who and the American Netflix doesn’t.
Huh.
-Espeon
How far are you into Supernatural?
Nearly done season 9, on Netflix my bf and I are on season 1.
So I started watching Supernatural on Netflix so I could watch it at the same time as my bf (long distance relationship), and they replaced ALL of the fucking music. Like a song started playing while watching Bloody Mary and I immediately got squinty eyed, like “wait a fucking minute.”
Like, one of the best parts about SPN is the music because they get classic rock and shit. But now anyone seeing it for the first time on Netflix, is getting these shitty replacement songs. Like, they don’t even fit the tone that the original songs set.
I am so mad right now, way more mad than I should be but god damn.
Posting this here because I know a bunch of blogs like @slagartehfox started watching on Netflix recently, and I can’t help but think of them and the subpar experience they’re getting.
My heart goes out to you guys it really does.
-Espeon
Where do you live?
Here in the US all the classic rock is intacted including a fairly long montage set to “Run Through the Jungle” and tons of classic rock and metal Dean plays son the car radio.
I don’t who it was, but one episode also plays a pretty cool fantasy-themed power metal song called “Stonehenge”
They also have “Back in Time” in the Groundhog Day episode.
Isn’t that the episode with the trickster?
Yes, it’s the second trickster episode.He’s the one that puts Sam in the loop.
I live in Canada, but the Netflix I have is American (or at least it should be, since it’s my partner’s and they live in America.) It pleases me to know that the music is still intact in some places though. the whole opening of “Skin” was ruined because they replaced Inagaddadavida with some indie band sounding BS.
Also awww Andy, miss that dude. And I can’t wait until you see the Trickster again (if you haven’t already). Good shit.
