#flowersforcastag

supernatural color palette series: dean and castiel in tombstone (13x06) + a cowboys dream

welcome home, pal.

I just wanna know who's idea it was to use this clip in the finale promo.

Because, ok sure, there's the surface level 'walking off into the sunset/sunrise' question because that didn't get to happen on the show. And then there's the fact that it's revealed to be a fake backdrop, therefore asking what is it implying.

But come with me on this: why this shot specifically?

This shot is from the end of Hollywood Babylon, season 2 episode 18. In that episode, the MOTW is some spirits being controlled to cause havoc on a movie set, as the writer of the show is displeased with the direction the movie has gone due to higher-ups being involved.

Yes. Really.

There are many fourth wall breaking lines and meta commentary moments throughout the episode, but this one is particularly striking:

"He wrote a wack-job screenplay: there's no pace, there's no love interest--it's all wackado expostition."

I don't know about the rest of you, but i've described the finale like this, just not in so few words. We've talked at length about how oddly paced 15x20 was--the montages, the long minutes of no dialogue, the weirdly hanging moments with Jenny, the length of the death scene, the extra commercial break despite it being the finale. And of course the no love interest bits for both Sam and Dean--blurry wife? Really? As others have said, the finale could've been an email reading 'lmao dean died on a hunt like a week later, sam married some random woman and never got over losing dean, they were never happy.'

Another line? How about from the movie's scriptwriter:

"You put your heart and soul into something, years and years of hard work, and then they take it! And crap all over it! And then--they want you to smile and say thank you."

Jackles' sexy silence, anyone?

how is this show self-aware 13 years prior to the outcome of the series.

Despite the fact that it’s probably six in the morning and Dean’s supposed to be asleep right now (long weeks at the auto shop always knock him out), he pulls himself out of bed and pads around to the other side of his bed, where Jack is standing, poking Cas’ face. 

Dean crouches down to Jack’s level. “Papa’s sick, remember?”

Jack looks down at his feet. “He has the flu.”

“Yeah, he has the flu.” Dean holds out his arms. “But Daddy can play with you instead.”

Jack sighs and lets himself be picked up. 

Dean knows that he can't quite replicate Cas and Jack’s special Saturday mornings together, but he can sure as hell try. The two of them always watch Plaza Sésamo, the Spanish version of Sesame Street, together, because language learning needs to start at a young age, Dean, and Jack has a mug of warm milk so he can be just like his Papa with coffee. 

(Leave it to Dean to marry an elementary school librarian.) 

Then, they make pancakes, which usually gets Dean to actually wake up and join them. After that, they go to the farmer’s market. 

And every Saturday is perfect.

But two days ago, after spending eight hours with snotty-nosed kids, Cas came home more exhausted than usual and then promptly passed out on the couch. One trip to the doctor later and it was confirmed--Cas had the flu. 

Which means that Dean’s gotta figure this whole “morning thing” out.

"What do you want to watch, Jack?” he asks, and Jack shakes his head. 

“I wanna color.”

“Alright.” Less time in front of the television is totally cool with Dean. He sets them up at the kitchen table, rummaging around on the bookshelf next to it until he finds the stack of recycled paper that they use for Jack to color and the box of crayons and markers. 

While Jack sets about drawing (there are several of his drawings from school stuck to the fridge--studies in crayon with Daddy and Papa and also Uncle Sam and Aunt Eileen and Grandma written on them in Jack’s kindergarten teacher’s neat handwriting), Dean makes coffee, and then decides to also make Cas some tea for whenever he actually wakes up and also to heat up some milk for Jack.

By the time he gets back to the table, Muppets in Space mug with warm milk in it in one hand and his coffee in a mug shaped like a spark plug that Cas got him because he thought it was funny in the other, Jack has used several sheets of paper, and Dean bends over him.

“Whatcha drawing?” Dean asks, and Jack tries to hide the paper with his tiny arms.

“It’s a secret,” he says. “You have to wait ‘til I'm finished.”

“Okay, okay.” Dean sets the milk down and then sits next to Jack, grabbing a piece of paper of his own. He’s halfway through drawing some sorta-realistic flowers (Cas has a big garden in their backyard that he loves to work in when he’s not, you know, actively dying of the flu), Jack is finished and poking Dean’s arm.

“Look,” Jack says, shoving his drawing at Dean. “I’m just like you, Daddy!”

It’s a drawing of a car, with two stick figures holding clumsily drawn wrenches standing next to it. 

“It’s you and me,” Jack adds. “We’re gonna fix the car.” He studies Dean’s face. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, kiddo.” Dean mashes Jack into a hug until Jack wiggles in protest, and then Dean tickles him, getting a laugh out of his son.

Later, while Jack is occupied with choosing between strawberries and blueberries for pancakes, Dean heads upstairs with the aforementioned mug of tea. Cas is sitting up when he gets to their room, with the comforters bunched around him, and he lets out a feeble cough.

“How’s Jack?” Cas asks, gratefully accepting the tea and taking a sip. 

“He’s great. We colored.”

“Oh good.” Cas coughs again. “Can you make sure to--”

“Get kale at the farmer’s market? Already on the list.”

“And more honey from--”

“The Turners?”

Cas smiles at him tiredly. “Hopefully later I can--”

“You can sleep later is what you can do. I’ve got this under control.” Dean presses a kiss to his husband’s forehead and turns to leave. “Although Jack and I will bring you breakfast in bed.”

“Can I put in a vote for strawberries?” Cas asks.

“I’ll see what the boss says.” Dean grins and then heads out, gently shutting the door behind him.

So maybe he’s not a morning person, and this isn’t a usual Saturday in the Winchester household.