Ludwig the virtuoso
  • Ludwig was annoyed at a Berlin audience for weeping over his performance. He complained to a friend, “That’s not what we artists wish. We want applause!”
  • Carl Czerny recorded how Beethoven mocked his audiences for breaking out into sobs and emotional displays after his improvisations. “You are fools! Who can live among such spoiled children?” 
  • In Beethoven’s twenties, the piano was still a delicate, all-wooden instrument. Ludwig once broke so many strings while performing a Mozart concerto that his friend Anton had to untangle broken strings from the piano as he played.
  • Friedrich Himmel, royal pianist of the court of Prussia, once improvised for Beethoven. After Friedrich had played for a moment, Ludwig snapped, “Well, when are you going to start?” He explained later, “I thought Himmel had just been preluding a bit.”
  • In 1797, Ludwig dedicated a four-hand piano sonata to Countess von Browne, who gave him a horse in thanks. He rented space for it at a stable and forgot about it until he was shocked and infuriated by a huge feed bill.
  • Ludwig lived across the street from his student Babette. He showed up for her morning piano lessons in a sleeping cap, dressing gown, and slippers. He dedicated several pieces of music to her, including the passionate Grande Sonata op. 7, nicknamed “The Beloved.”
  • An amateur pianist named Carl described Ludwig: “Whoever sees Beethoven for the first time and knows nothing about him would surely take him for a malicious, ill-natured and quarrelsome drunk who has no feeling for music.”

[Need more Beethoven? Read about how his house flooded when he was a child and what it was like to have lessons with Haydn.]

source : BEETHOVEN : anguish and triumph 

Imagine the boys finding out you can play piano.

Soft, melancholy notes floated through the air as each delicate touch of your finger on a key formed a song that held emotions of your past. It had been forever since the last time you had the chance to play. It even surprised you that remember the song. The broken and dirtied piano left to rot away in this hell hole of a place still carried a beautiful sound, shockingly. Maybe that was sign that even broken things are still beautiful…or maybe you were just thinking too much into it as you usually do.

You weren’t aware of the pairs of eyes staring in your direction. The echoes off the abandoned walls vibrated down the halls and into the rooms that haven’t saw the light of day in ages. The eerie vibes of the present day faded away as the death of the sick came out to be remembered. The forgotten spirits wailed and the tormented settled.

“Y/n…” Dean’s voice broke the flow and then…silence filled the atmosphere once again. “Since when-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interrupted before standing up and wiping off your hands.

“That was,” Sam started, “beautiful.”

Castiel nodded. “And very sad.”

“Oh-well-um.” You couldn’t find the strength to form the words thanks to the lump in your throat. You looked around the room. “Seemed fitting.”

Sam nodded. “That it is. What’s it called?”

“Cold, by Jorge Mendez.”

The three men just stared at you in awe before the eldest Winchester finally spoke up. “We have got to get you a piano for the bunker.”

Hogwarts Houses Aesthetics
  • Gryffindor: Laughing with friends, Plaid shirts, Kicking stuff, Singing in the shower, Smiling so that your cheeks hurt, Jumping into a pool, Running through tall grass, Climbing trees, Tickling friends, Gazing into a fire, Drinking cider, Hugging a pet, Seeing old friends, Screaming, Driving nowhere, Building a sandcastle then crushing it, Snowball fights, Hot chocolate, Tapping your fingers, Waterfalls.
  • Ravenclaw: The perfect playlist, Getting full marks on a test, Stargazing, Pencils in colour order, Peeling the plastic off a DVD, The smell of books, Talking to yourself, Tearstained cheeks, Writing poetry, Freckles, Trying to reach something on the top shelf, Forehead kisses, Mirrors smashing, Sore hands after drawing, Filling a notebook, Giving advice, Swearing under your breath.
  • Hufflepuff: Tension easing from your back when you get into a hot bath, Stopping to smell the flowers, Swing sets, Bubblegum, Absentmindedly strumming a guitar, Sticking up for a friend, Giggling, Handholding, Fluffy socks, Crunchy autumn leaves, Plaited hair, Getting ice cream on your nose, Polaroid pictures, Clay-covered hands.
  • Slytherin: Empty perfume bottles, Heels on tiles, Tiptoeing, Fingerless gloves, Leather sofas, Moonlight reflecting off of a still lake, Stepping back to admire your work, Dancing for hours, Neon signs, Broken pianos, Abandoned houses, Monotone photography, Red umbrellas.

Chris discovering his piano is broken - April 12

Hans Zimmer

This incredibly wacky but still amazing piece by the one and only Hans Zimmer really sums up the character of Sherlock Holmes in every way, shape and form. It starts off with a slow and in a way creepy cimbalom performing the main theme, then bursts out into a dramatic brass blast and continues on with a constant but still very energetic main theme, incorporating many instruments such as a broken pub piano, banjo, squeaky violins, detuned uprights and (as mentioned before) a cimbalom. 

This in whole is a very unique but brilliantly composed piece, thanks to the best, Hans Zimmer, well done. You always seem to amaze!

okay but can we just take a moment and appreciate this?

when we first saw bts’s short films, we only saw them in the realms of the hyyh/wings series.

but after reading the lyrics to bts’s new album, we can see that it’s so much more.

like in jungkook’s short film, he was crying for his “hyung”. we took it as him crying because somebody died and/or he was forcing himself to let go of his past and loved ones. 

his solo was a love letter to his members, about how they took in his 15 year old self and cared for and raised him. How they “made him”. How whenever he sees his hyungs cry, he wants to cry instead and whenever they’re sad, he wants to die.

in rap monster’s short film, we saw him in a wall of mirrors. we thought it was him reflecting on himself for not picking up taehyung’s call and being there for him.

his solo was the thoughts and emotions he has when he’s alone. It was a reflection of himself. It talked about how even though he’s loved by so many, he still feels lonely. How he’s trapped in himself and how he’s learned to become familiar with darkness.

in j hope’s short film, he took on a character with munchausen syndrome. His symbol is Eva, Demian’s mother. We took this as a continuation of his character in the I Need U and Run mv 

in his solo, he calls his own mother his “placebo” (which is the typical treatment for someone with munchausen syndrome) and tells her that now she can believe in him and trust him. That she doesn’t have to work hard anymore, that he is there for her.

In suga’s short film, we seem him automatically attracted to a broken down piano inside an abandoned building

in his solo, he calls the piano his first love and talks about his guilt for leaving it despite it always being there to comfort him throughout all of his struggles.

in taehyung’s short film, we see him locked in a cage singing the phrase “i’m sorry my sister”. we thought that he was saying this because his character failed to protect his sister from their abusive father.

In his solo, he not only says “I’m sorry my sister” but also “I’m sorry my brother”. In real life, Taehyung has a younger sister and a younger brother. He was talking to them through this song, and was begging for their forgiveness because he felt as if he failed to protect them from the things that life threw in their direction. Taehyung has been extremely busy this year with all of his schedules, it is possible that this song was the manifestation of his guilt for not spending more time with his family and being there to be an older brother to his siblings.

in jimin’s short film, we see this push and pull within his character. He looks at the camera smiling, but in the next frame he’s choking himself. We thought it was because he was forcing himself to pretend that he’s alright without j hope.

But in his solo, he’s asking his listeners to save him from his “lie” where he feels as if his true self is being swallowed up and forced to be something that it’s not. it’s possible that this is referencing the personality he has on camera and the personality he has off it, or maybe even referencing him being an international idol when he first started off as just a young boy.

in jin’s short film, we see him leaving the room and thus leaving all the symbols of the other six members. We see him burning 6 flower petals. we thought that this was his “awakening”, him forcing himself to wake up from the illusion of happiness he had with the boys throughout the hyyh series.

in his solo, he also speaks of six petals that he holds in his hands. this is still the same symbol that represents the members of bts. but, we also see him singing of how he can never fly like “those” flower petals and that he’s scared and hurt. Yet, despite this, he still wants to fight and run longer. This is referencing how he knows that he’s overshadowed by the other members of bts and he knows that he may never be able to shine like them. But he still wants to try his best and go all the way. Why? because those flowers are precious and beautiful to him and no matter the pain he may suffer, he still wants to fly and keep on going.

like the songs are not just to be seen in the context of the hyyh story, BTS took it and made it something extremely personal to them

it is here that their characters in hyyh are no longer just characters but true representations of themselves.

This is just a rough overview of each song, but literally no words can ever be enough for the emotions and thoughts that each member poured into their solo. Please go read the translations and learn more about the meaning behind their hard work.

Notes on The Wings Tour Trailer

1. Jungkook is shown swinging to and fro on a swing and disappears leaving flames behind. (Cue: Fire)

2. Yoongi appears lying down, surrounded by a broken down piano. (Cue: First Love) The background are trees (Cue: Arboretum: Lie, MAMA; RUN mv)

3. Jimin is also lying down on a grass field, his eyes blindfolded and his hands with untied black ribbons. His hand holds an apple. (Cue: BST, Lie)

4. Hoseok is lying down before the sculpture, Pietà by Michelangelo, among a pile of arrows that have missed their shot. (Cue: BST, he shot and arrow at Taehyung and it splattered paint over the layer that was protecting Taehyung) (Note: the sculpture depicts the body of Jesus on the lap of his mother Mary after the Crucifixion) - (Cue: MAMA)

5. Jin looks at his own reflection on a pool of water. (Cue: Awake, Jin touches a mirror and created ripples)

6. Jimin lifts off the ground and the blindfold comes off. The background is a colourfully painted background. (Cue: Begin - Jungkook paints, MAMA)

7. Taehyung appears in the same clothes as in BST.

8. Namjoon lies among broken, shattered mirrors.

9. Jungkook is close to putting his black-paint-coated fingers into his mouth. (Cue: BST, Jungkook put green wax into his mouth)

Do you remember during Ep 6 of Rookie King (Commercial break), Jungkook painted “BTS” with black paint?

10. Apple floated up from the water. Jimin dances in front of the colourful background. As his hand lowers from covering his eyes, black paint flows down the colourful background. 

11. Jin is found kissing his own reflection.

(Note: Could this be signifying that the statue he kissed in BST was actually himself?) 

12. Wings start growing from Taehyung’s back. As the Wings develop more and more, Jin’s face and hand starts cracking more and more like a porcelain. When Taehyung’s wings were fully developed, he gave a really creepy smile. As if he was happy to see Jin (in particularly) and the other BTS members fall apart. Jin’s hand broke off eventually. 

Also note that there are scenes where Taehyung seems to be trapped.

13. Yoongi stands in front of the Arboretum background and butterflies flutter nearby. Jungkook reveals a piece of art that resembles a butterfly. A butterfly immediately appears on Yoongi’s lips. (The art style actually reminds me of the Rorschach inkblot test, cue: Lie; Butterfly)

14, Namjoon appears slowly being covered by shadows. (This reminds me of Awake, at the beginning of the video where Jin also got covered by shadows when he was at the dining table.

15. Blue tears flow from Jimin’s eye. Colourful tears flow from Jungkook’s eye.(Cue: Begin, Jungkook’s painting also cried colourful tears)

16. Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok and Namjoon all flew up from their lying positions. Just like how Jungkook did in BST.

17. Taehyung stands alone on a stage (there are curtains), his wings fully developed.

Broken and abandoned piano.
Abandoned church.
New York

Dan x Reader - Piano

a/n: this is a short imagine, just a little blurb because i haven’t posted anything recent / i have another imagine coming up btw

I glance over to see the time and clock reads 1:10AM. I’ve have been trying to sleep for at least 45 minutes and it would probably go to an hour soon. Ugh why can’t I just sleep? Can I just stop thinking and turn off my brain? If only it was that easy. Dan had been in bed around the same time as me, but he wasn’t trying to sleep. He was either scrolling on Tumblr or planning an idea for YouTube or something. The brightness was turned lowest just like his earphone volume, because he didn’t want to disturb me but I still just couldn’t sleep. Somehow I’m already disturbed by the thoughts that rage my mind. Dan looks down at my agitated face. 

“You’ve been tossing and turning for awhile now. What’s wrong?” He asks puzzled, taking one of his earphones out.
“I just can’t fall asleep, I don’t know why.“ I say annoyed.
“Do you have something on your mind you’d like to discuss?" Dan says slightly turning to look over at me.
"Nah Dan, I don’t think talking would really help my situation of trying to get my brain to shut up.” I answered sarcastically.
“Sorry.” I guess he took some offense to my answer.
“It’s fine.” I said trying to make him feel better because now I feel bad. I turn over on my side to him. 
“y/n?” Dan says quietly.
“Hm?” I say still fully awake.
“I have an idea.” Dan says beginning to get up.
“What is it?” I ask him slightly confused.
Dan walked over to his slightly broken brown piano and opened the cap slowly.
“I’m going to play you a song.” He said while turning on a light desk lamp to see the keys. 
“You might have to play me a couple of songs Howell.” I say raising my eyebrows slyly, much to Dan’s amusement.
“That’s alright.” Dan said, softly smiling back at me and then he began to play.
His tall silhouette sat on the stool. He was so graceful. It was beautiful to watch him play, let alone here the music that came out. His brown hair was slightly pushed back, as he bent his head slightly down following along with the melody. Dan’s long fingers flowed effortlessly on each of the keys. He concentrated, but at the same time seemed relaxed and confident in himself. He genuinely enjoyed what he was doing and it was truly a magnificent sight to watch. 
You fell asleep to the beautiful sounds of Dan Howell’s piano playing. 

she knows the pearly gates are no longer meant for her. maybe once, a lifetime ago, before her hands were stained the color of rust and broken promises - but now she would merely tarnish all that white into a murderous red. 

she thinks that when her breath finally stutters out in a string of coughs that sound like a broken piano, the war drums will still be beating in her ear. she thinks that she will grab the devil by the lapels of his black cape, and she will curse him for keeping his icy talons lodged into her back for so damn long.

she thinks she will go first. 

(she is wrong.)

she is wrong, and blood is pouring from a hole in his chest like a hurricane, a tiny pinprick of red that grows and grows and grows until it becomes him, until it is him. she cradles his face in her palms as bullets ricochet around them like a pinball machine, and she can’t see the freckles under the rust-colored dust. he spits apologies made of blood and guilt and sacrifice into the cold dirt, and she knows she will never paint again.

but when she does go - in the midst of another war, another battle, because they were never destined to be a people prone to peace - he is standing at the blackened gates with a crown of twisted iron, and he places a golden one atop her own head, and he tells her, 

‘welcome to your new kingdom, princess.’

—  the death of clarke griffin, inspired by x and x 
Newt x reader :: Nightmares

Request: @storyofmemory I love Missing You!!! 😍 Could you do an imagine where the reader comforts Newt after a nightmare? Totally needing more Newt x reader fluff in my life. ❤

Notes: Does anyone ever feel it’s difficult to sometimes write bad things happening to characters because you just want to protect them? D: This is why I need practice writing angst! I hope you like this one and that you have a good night and sweet dreams (unlike poor Newt)! I hope there’s enough fluff…I can always do more fluff. <3

Word count: 855

Originally posted by eddie-scamander

The cries of children echoing through a cavernous night. The horizon just a line of flickering, bright fires; flames reaching upwards, licking the starless sky. Underneath it all, the low rumble that sounded like millions of locusts taking flight at once. The low tinkling of a broken piano straining to produce sound against the drone. This was the setting of Newt Scamander’s nightmares. This ever-shifting field of desolation and war cries and death. Frankly, Hell.

His heart was so full of passion for magical creatures that it saved him while he was awake from the horrible darkness creeping just below the surface. By the light of day (or enchanted starlight of his case by night), he was able to transform all of the pain into pure compassion like some alchemic reaction turning dirt into gold. He turned his own hurt into something that benefitted every living creature he came into contact with.

He spread this compassion with more abandon than you had ever seen from a human being. Though he was quiet, it was because he was an observer. A watcher. A protector. A silent sentinel speaking out for those who couldn’t speak for themselves. A man who worked relentlessly to fulfill a task that many would say was impossible or pointless. This is exactly why watching him suffer at night felt as if your heart was being removed with a dull, plastic spoon.

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Pleasures of a Garden (M)

Originally posted by princeminmin

Jin x reader

Romance, Smut

Word count; 11k

Summary; Y/N is a reserved person who aids the Wings boys. However, one day she seeks the one who guides her new feelings and ways to develop stronger meanings.

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and so he says, has said before, and will say again, “Can you ever forgive me?”

it sits like yellow pound cake, like bags of powdered sugar and ten thousand flakes of stardust. sits like the way he thinks he sits across from you, like the way he thinks he sees you.
pretty little words in pretty big weight. placed on pillows, on praise, on poison.

it sits like the way you sit across from each other, parallel. heartbeats moving on the same frequencies, heads in different clouds. his are white, yours are storm.
sits on your shoulders like a tuesday. like broken piano keys and stale clocks, like the pools of blood you mop up after he speaks.

and you want to sit in the same wavelength as him a little longer, to bathe in the sugar and the stars, to watch his white clouds rain red tears. so you let him and his words sit with you.

and so he says, has said before, and will say again.

—  you say he never learns and neither do you
We Try And Run Away, But End Up Running Back

Hi im in the study area in college and I have another exam tomorrow so I probably should be doing anything other than writing fic but . oops

Also I hope no-one can read this over my shoulder im so paranoid lol I’ve had to turn my laptop screen brightness right down how #shady of me

Although this is primarily reality-based, not all the elements of this fic are accurate so pls excuse if Dan and Phil’s roles seem a little out of character lol I don’t often write reality stuff I think AU is more my calling

HoweVER I still hope this is somewhat ok <33

(tw; brief mention of self-harm)


summary: It’s 2012, and they’ve settled into an unhealthy routine. They argue every day, fight every night, and Dan plays the piano at a volume no-one would deem acceptable for 2am. But when they’re in bed and too tired to bother with conflict, 2009 doesn’t seem as distant as it does in the daylight, and perhaps they never fell out of love after all.

words: 4.3k

(kinda loosely based on creep by radiohead [x] and crash by ymas [x])


It’s two in the morning, and Dan doesn’t really know how this argument started. There are too many arguments these days; every day in their recent lives another episode in the series, crashing into another in a medley of fights and tears and one door slam after the other. He’s lost count – he can’t remember.

But what he does know, is that however it started, it wasn’t his fault.  It wasn’t his fucking fault and he shouldn’t take the blame for it, he won’t let Phil push the blame on him for this.

“Why the fuck didn’t you check?” Phil follows him into the kitchen, shoving open the glass door from where Dan had slammed it behind him.

“Why is it my fucking duty to do everything?” Dan fires back, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. “What do you expect me to do – sit on fucking Tumblr twenty-four hours a fucking day?”

“Don’t you think it’d just be a little more logical to track your tag every now and then?” Phil grits his teeth.

“And what – scroll through hundreds of fucking posts per second?” Dan shoots back. “It’s impossible for me to check everything, for fuck’s sake.”

“When did I ever suggest you check everything?” Phil challenges. “I just- we just need to be a little more careful, is what I’m saying.”

“Careful?!” Dan repeats, his voice going a little shrill; probably from the constant shouting they’ve been doing all evening. “You don’t even fucking know the meaning of the word careful.”

“I know more than you,” Phil folds his arms, leaning against the worktop and Dan sees red.

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MBTI as shit I have done being drunk

ENTP - Entered in a hotel (about 7 am) and tried to convince receptionists that we were staying at that hotel in order to have breakfast. - With ESFP

ENTJ - Sent an audio message to the “tomorrows myself” joking and saying things like “How does it feel the hangover muahahaha!”. 

ENFP - Went to one of the fanciest discos in the city where everybody was so elegant and danced on a totally goofy way. Everybody was like OMG. - With ESFP, ENFP and ESFJ (who was quite embarrassed).

ESTP - Spaghetti fight. - At ENTJs house with ESTJ, ESFP, ISTJ and ISTP

ESFJ - Start telling to everybody that I love them (actually this happens pretty often).

INTP - My friends showed me a 10 minute video (which I didn’t remember) of me speaking about my theories about the third world war. Messages for future generations included.

ESTJ - Convinced to a road sweeper to let me his leaf blower and felt like a boss with it. - With ESFP

INFP - Bored a total stranger at a bar speaking her about art. - With ENFP

ENFJ - Spent the whole night trying to get a girlfriend to a friend. - To ISTP

INFJ - Ended playing an old, broken piano on a really weird grunge LGTB disco. - With ESFP

ESFP - Told to everybody that my ESFP friend and I were twins and it was our birthday to get a dedicated song by the DJ (didn’t get it).

ISFP - Went to the street and tried to get some money by playing the ukelele and singing (didn’t get absolutely anything). - With ESFP

ISTP - Randomly decided and did go to the beach and swim with underwear in the sea in the middle of the night. -  With ESTJ, ESFP, ISTJ and ISTP

INTJ - There was a speech before a concert and we started repeating everything on different language’s accents, passionately. - With ENFJ

ISTJ - Literally got asleep on the table while everybody else was talking and woke up on the sofa. - With ENFP, ESFP, ESFJ and other people around.

ISFJ - Take care of someone who’s too drunk (this also happens quite often, unfortunately).

We met like fireworks exploding.

We met like a swallowed jar of gasoline,
all broken piano key teeth and fire
dripping throats.

Me, I always had a mouthful of blood
back then, my ribs filed so sharp they
pierced my lungs every time I breathed.

You were Pompeii screeching for destruction,
for wounds so savage they would give you a
reason for the tears strangling your pillow.
You wanted burns, flames, fumes.

You wanted to claw your chest open
and let the stars kiss your throat with
carnage still drying under your fingernails.

We met like the fucking Big Bang —
I never realised how much it hurt to feel,
how much I would taste the ache and love
it with a snarling chest, how much I
would scream silently with want to
become again.

You made me feel again, I want to tell you.
You made me feel again.

—  Darshana Suresh“Resuscitation”
Easy, Tiger

Dean broke his leg so the reader has to drive him back from the hospital and care for him? Just lots of fluff please :)

*not my images*


The afternoon was a blur of screaming and panic, adrenaline pumping as Dean crashed to the floor. The werewolf was twice the normal size, tossing Dean into a broken piano, which his body made unfixable.

“Dean!” you had shouted, running over while Sam shot the monster, chest heaving. 

Dean was grabbing at his leg, wincing - something you’ve never seen the oldest Winchester do. 

“Dean” you said to no one in specific as you picked up his jeans. “Oh…my” you looked at the bloody gash and twisted ankle. “That just isn’t right” you said and he shot you a death stare.

“You think?” he shouted, “Sorry” he placed a hand on your arm and you felt his warmth and care. Slowly he tried standing but he quickly fell back down.

“I’ll drive” Sam grabbed the keys from Dean, and the hospital routine was back in action. This time it wasn’t you who was bleeding, so you took Dean into the backseat.

After minutes of fighting he finally let you hold him up to walk to the car. He was trying to hide the pain, but his arm and back were tense and his eyes were pleading for help.

Carefully you laid him down in the backseat, and slid in so his head was on your lap, afraid to mess up his leg even more. 

His knuckles were as white as the road markers you watched as Sam sped towards the hospital, driving faster than he ever had before. 

You didn’t even realize that Dean Winchesters head rested in your lap as you were too focused on worrying about him.

“Shh” you placed a hand on the crook of his neck, rubbing your thumb absentmindedly across. 

“I’m fine” he clenched his jaw.

“Dean, I think I see your bone” you said and his eyes went wide. 

“No- don’t worry, never mind” you weren’t as quick and smooth with words as Dean was. He gave a small chuckle from amusement.

He stared up at you while you stared out the window. Dean watched your eyes search the sky for something intangible, temporarily forgetting about the pain. Your thumb was still rubbing circles into his neck, and he could tell you forgot you were even doing that. Smiling he turned his head away, wondering just how pink his cheeks were.

“Let’s go” Sam stopped the car and helped you pull Dean out. 

“This looks super shady” you sang as you walked through the front doors, Sam shot you a look but you swore you saw him crack a smile.

“Holy shit” a nurse swore under her breath as you walked in, “Emergency room!” she shouted to another nurse who helped Dean up onto a gurney. 

“Don’t! Stop- what, what is that - no don’t” Dean was struggling against the nurses trying to belt him down. 

You knew they’d tranquilize him in second, “Dean! Shutup!” you hissed but he tried sitting up in the gurney. 

A doctor came immediately to assist and stabbed the needle into Dean’s arm. 

Sam was by the check in desk, side-eyeing the happening, slightly amused at your adoration for his older brother.

“He’ll be fine” Sam said once you walked over, arms crossed. 

“I know, just- I don’t…” you trailed off.

“You don’t like when he’s hurting. I know, you’d rather make out with him” Sam said and your eyes went wide.

“What? Sam don’t joke right now” you were amazed at his humor, usually he was the serious one in the Winchester duo. 

“I see the way you look at him” Sam said once you were seated in the waiting room. 

You tried getting comfortable on the chair, but images of Dean screaming as they re-set the bone terrified you, but it was all for his better.

“How will he hunt now?”

“He won’t for a while, but everything heals with time” Sam tried comforting you, but his mind was somewhere else. Mostly on the nurse facing her back to you with curly blonde hair. His eyes searched her up and down as if he were missing something.

“Sam” you placed a hand on his arm, worried. “What’s wrong?” you asked and he snapped out of it. 

“Nothing” he said, clenching his jaw. 

You decided to get some sleep, this week would be long. You slipped off your jacket and bundled it up between your head and Sam’s shoulder. He moved slightly so you could get more comfortable. Having a giant moose for a best friend was amazing, he made a damn good pillow.

Within seconds you were passed out, near drooling.

“Y/N, wake up” Sam was shaking you slightly. 

“What? What time is it?” you asked and Sam said “It’s almost midnight”

“What?!” you shouted and then settled down when an old lady shot you a glance. 

“They said Dean’s awake now but he’s seriously loopy” Sam said and you smiled before following him to Dean’s room.

Walking in you found a nurse filling in some forms on her clipboard, and she was very pretty, with her eyes all over Dean. 

Jealousy swelled up inside you, “Can I talk to him alone please?” you snapped and Sam cocked his head at you. 

“What the hell was that?” he asked once she was out of the room.

Shrugging you walked over to Dean and shook his shoulder.

“Hey” you smiled and immediately he smiled back, reaching up with his hand. 

“They gave me so much medicine, it’s like being drunk without the drinking” he said and you laughed. 

“Oh, Dean” you messed with his sheets until you uncovered his cast.

“Woah! We haven’t even kissed yet” he said and Sam burst out laughing. Blushing you saw the cast covered up to his mid-thigh, and was bare. 

“How about I sign it later?” you suggested and Dean nodded happily. He was so happy, as if he didn’t know he was a hunter. Moments later Sam and Dean were in deep conversation about pancakes, the doctor knocked.

“Hello” he greeted, “Here is his pain medication, two tablets twice a day” he said and you nodded, passing it to Sam who pocketed it. 

“He loves the both of you very much” the doctor said before leaving.

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“Oh” he chuckled, “Initially when he woke up, he was under so much morphine that he started babbling about how he only broke his leg to save you-“ he pointed at you, “if your name is Y/N, and you hunt werewolves!” he laughed before shutting the door. You turned on your heels to stare at Sam.

“What the hell?”

“At least he didn’t say anything else…” Sam looked at his brother who was sleeping again, drooling all over the pillow. 

“But what does he mean by he saved my life?” you asked, and no answer came. Silently you took a seat by Dean’s bed, and fell asleep. Your arm was hanging off the bar on the bedside, and your head was situated on the bed near Dean’s side. Sam was wandering the hospital halls for hours, researching and reading on his phone.

The next morning Dean was let out, and you passed him his crutches. 

“Here ya go” you said, and helped him out of bed. He slipped on yesterdays clothing, struggling to get the jeans over his cast. Quickly you cut them open as he groaned about how these were brand new. 

“I’m not using those” he said and tried standing up, quickly falling back onto you.

“Easy tiger” you stuck them out again and he took them. 

“Sam’s driving us back to the bunker, how’s the pain?” you asked.

“A strong five” he said and you nodded. 

“Let’s get you home- wait, I actually have a question” you asked as you made your way to the parking lot. 

“Yeah?” he turned to you, eyes sparkling in the summer’s sun. The shadows played off his face so his freckles were detailed perfectly. 

You didn’t realize how long you didn’t speak for until a car honked.

“Yeah, yeah” you waved it off and continued. “The doctor said while you were all loopy, you said that you broke your leg to save my life” and Dean stopped in his tracks.

“Must’ve misheard me” he said and began moving a bit faster.

“Dean!” you shouted behind him but he knew how to move those crutches quickly.

You decided to leave him be, he was tired and in pain. You slid into the backseat with him, leaning your head on the window.

Days had passed slowly. The mornings started with Dean unable to go down the library’s three steps while Sam rolled his eyes. The afternoons involved shouting and yelling about how Dean could hunt while you and Sam shouted back, telling him to stay at home. Nighttime was your only solace. 

“How about a movie?” Dean spoke up after a silent dinner. He gave you a small smile as he propped up his crutches.

“I’d love it” you smiled back and cleaned up his plate. 

“Y/N” he called behind you, and you spun around with both plates in your hands.

“You don’t have to clean up after me, I can handle myself” he said, trying to keep his “I don’t need help” act up. 

“I don’t have to, I want to” you said and turned on your heel. Dean pursed his lips in thought before getting up and setting up a movie.

“How about the Avengers? I know you love that one” he smiled at you like an idiot as he held up the case. Giggling you nodded and plopped yourself down on the couch. 

Dean slid the disc in and then took the seat next to you. He struggled to grab the blanket, unable to move his heavy casted leg. 

“I got it” you said and he mumbled a string of curses under his breath. 

“Dean. You have to stop it now, I’m helping you and I like helping you and it’s nothing to be upset about” you snapped.

“Sorry, I’m sorry” he said immediately, quite out of character for him.

“Did- did you just apologize?” you asked and he looked up at you through his blonde eyelashes.

He gave a small smirk and you pulled the blanket up over the both of you. He moved to reach the remote, brushing his bare arm against yours and you felt your skin tingle at the contact. 

Halfway into the movie you turned to Dean who was intently watching, face silhouetted by the screens dim lighting. You never really noticed just how pretty his jaw was, or how comforting it was to watch his chest as he breathed.

“What?” he asked without looking away from the screen. Turning your head quickly you blushed.

Dean turned to you and you met his eyes, they were sparkling thousands of different shades of green. “I’m sorry I’ve been a douche, I just- I didn’t want anyone to feel like they have to help me. I’m already pretty useless now” he said and your jaw went slack.

“Useless? Dean I don’t know what I’d do without you” you said without realizing it.

“What do you mean?”

Sighing you said, “Don’t you know? Sam see’s it. He always teases me about it, can’t you see I like you Dean?”

“I like you too”

“No, Dean! I mean I really like you” you said and he began laughing. 

“I really like you too” he copied your tone and you beamed back at him.

Quickly he leaned towards you, pressing his lips to yours. You pulled at his hair feverishly, pressing your chest against his. 

“Damnit” he muttered and you pulled away.

“Am I that bad?” you asked, cheeks crimson.

“I wanted to turn but my leg was stuck on the table” he pointed to where he leg was propped up. Smiling deviously you said, “How about I move instead? you said and climbed onto him, straddling his hips.

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat for a second before he snapped out of it, “I like this idea a lot more” he smiled and you laughed, pulling him up towards you. 

You brushed your lips over his and jumped off.

“Tease!” he shouted and you tossed a pillow at him laughing. Dean tried reaching for one but couldn’t.

“Damnit!” he shouted, making you laugh even harder. 

“I know what’ll make you feel better” you ran to the kitchen to find a marker while Dean sat perplexed. 

“Better not be a dick” he joked and you slapped him. You picked the spot right above his knee and began writing. 

“This isn’t a dick” you wrote and Dean burst out laughing. 

“No seriously, wait let me write something” you then moved to the other side of his leg. 

This cast is really ugly, but you aren’t” you signed, cracking up. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to see the area you signed.

“Nothing” you said and capped the marker. He rolled his eyes before you jumped onto the couch, dropping your head onto his stomach. 

“Ow!” he groaned and you fixed your position. He placed a hand on your shoulder as he wrapped you into a hug, playing with your hair in his other hand. 

“Thank you for helping me with everything” he said and you smiled.

Quietly you watched the movie, encapsulated in Dean’s warmth. You placed a hand on his cast, running your fingers up and down the rough material, listening to the bumping noises it made against your nail. Slowly you fell asleep, Dean also not too long after.