#like i ADORE dean and his kids i ADORE dean and claire and dean and jack

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  CLOSER THAN THIS

SUMMARY :  part IV of gimme half. something quick. something hot. in between busy tasks. when everyone else has not arrived.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, p in v, clothed sex, against the wall

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : jimin song title. this fills the quickie square of my @jacklesversebingo card. I don’t even know what I’m doing 😋 but these can be read as standalone fics 😌 XXX

Dean made cute faces all the time. 

It was hard to resist smiling when she was around him. His jokes made her laugh, his faces made her laugh, even his laugh made her laugh, and the way he playfully sang along to the music from his playlist, the faces he pulled in concentration or as he tasted what he cooked made her smile. 

He was the embodiment for endearment. Those adorable dimples of his only made him more charming. She swooned an embarrassing amount of times in all those moments. 

She was delighted when he called her some time after noon and asked her to come over if she wasn’t busy to help him out with dinner. He spent most of the afternoon cooking and baking for his friends. It was one of the best times she’d spent with him, getting to know him like this, seeing in person as he serves others rather than peeking through the windows of her house to get to know him. 

It sounds creepier than it actually was, at least she thought so. She was a nosy neighbour. Oh, God, that’s horrible. To be fair, she was only nosy when it came to Dean—they were enemies. Were.

That phase was over. 

Sometimes she woke up in his bed, other times he woke up in hers. And then they’d make each other breakfast. And now they went on dates. And now they babysat his nephew when Sam and Eileen went out on dates—that brought up a lot of thoughts she didn’t have before. Kids. 

Seeing Dean like that with his nephew… Using a cute voice and singing him to sleep, messy feeding and messier baths, bedtime stories and playing pretend, soothing him when he cried and teaching him new things. 

She wondered if Dean felt the same, if the thoughts of fatherhood haunted him the way they haunted her when he fell asleep in her bed. Or when she woke up with the sun, to Dean’s sleeping face. Or when they were alone at home, cooking, watching movies, sharing stories, drinking… when they went on rides with no destination in mind, on picnics, or even just grocery shopping. Sometimes he’d keep her company as she worked on hobbies and she’d do the same for him, watching him fix anything broken, or tune up his car. 

She was too afraid to bring up that conversation. They were retired hunters. It’s part of why she refused to admit that she did want children. It’s like the choice was robbed from her and it hurt for so long, but it got easier to accept when she focused on hunting or her job as a professor. 

Besides, she had her cat. Close enough. 

When she went over to his place, she focused on helping Dean with chopping up whatever vegetables he needed to use, she washed them for him before using them, she brought the spices and herbs he needed, or the condiments that could be used, and cleaned up the dirty dishes after he was done using them. 

Now that they were finished, they sat at the table waiting for everything to finish simmering while talking about things to do after. Watching a movie was the obvious answer, which one to watch was the harder part. 

She believed it was Jody, Donna, Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Patience that were coming over. She met them at Sam’s wedding, barely. The only one who could truly answer that question was Dean, but now he was pouty because he wasn’t sure what they’d want to watch, but maybe he could ask them when they came. 

He picked up some of the excess shredded carrots for the carrot cake he made for those who didn’t want pie, and dropped them into his mouth. He chewed, the carrots barely touched his taste buds, and he grimaced, but swallowed it anyway.

“Tastes better in the cake,” he grunted, getting up for a beer. She giggled and shook her head at him. “Want one?” He asked from the fridge, getting his open, but she shook her head, so he sat back down with her. 

“So… you’re just good at everything?” She asked, scooting closer when he put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. He chuckled, his cheeks reddening. He ahh-ed after taking a sip of the cool beer and thought for a while. 

“I’m not good at… designing clothes?” He offered bashfully, pushing the beer far away from him. She stared at it subtly then glanced up at him curiously. 

“No, not like that,” she smiled softly, “you fixed my electrical outlet…” she reminded him, leaning forward to tap his plump lip. His mouth dropped open slightly and he exhaled, rolling his eyes shyly. She dropped her hand onto the table and thoughtlessly traced patterns on the surface, watching him get embarrassed. 

“It was… nothing,” he sniffled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He leaned back in the chair and took the bottle of beer from the table again, playing with it to avoid her gaze. 

“You’re very… John Wick,” she sighed, stretching her arms upward. He hummed softly, leaning back forward with his arms on the table, staring at her with interest. “It’s hot,” she whispered quietly, her eyes holding affection and longing. 

“Yeah?” He murmured, staring at her like she was all that was there. It made her turn pink self-consciously, but she continued to gaze into his eyes. She saw his hand move and then it was over hers, warm and comforting. 

“Mmm, yes,” she replied quietly. 

Being around Dean was like being surrounded by a gas leak, and one kiss, one touch, one right word, acted like the spark that ignited everything. The fire robbed her of breath and stripped her skin away so she was bare and vulnerable to him. 

Dean leaned forward, practically lunging to meet her lips, but the timer he set earlier went off loudly at the centre of the table, and made them jump away. They both laughed awkwardly, she extended her hand to turn it off while Dean turned the stove off. 

“Wanna taste?” He asked, hummed softly as he took a tiny sip from the metal mixing spoon, and waited for her when she nodded. She stood before him, waiting and watching him blow air against the hot lentil soup in the spoon to cool it down. 

She bit her lip and smiled, then he cupped his hand two inches beneath the spoon so it wouldn’t drip onto the floor. She opened her mouth and took the delicious, warm soup into her mouth, savouring it with a pleased hum, her eyes full of surprise and satisfaction. Dean pulled back a little too early, causing some soup to dribble down from the corner of her lip due to the awkward position they were in. 

“Oh, my god,” she moaned, too distracted by the flavour. She only looked at Dean while he set the spoon down on the counter, indifferent about the puddle it created beneath. He grabbed her chin and dipped down to kiss the small trail of soup away, his warm tongue gently swiping up and down. Her breath hitched and her face burned hotter with embarrassment. 

The embarrassment didn’t last and was replaced by a flush of arousal across every inch of her skin. Dean seared her lips with a hard, demanding kiss that made her breathless and numbed her mind of any thoughts. 

He gently manoeuvred her across the kitchen, breaking apart from the kiss to breathe before returning to each other’s lips. She made quick work of the white apron around his waist, gasping at the unexpected bump of her back against the wall. 

Dean took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and trailed his hands slowly down her sides, his palms pressing against her curves firmly. He only removed his hands from the short baby-blue dress when she shoved the thick green flannel off his shoulders, watching him throw it over onto the nearest counter in the kitchen. 

Dean grabbed her hips to guide her into the hallway, digging his fingers into the tight dress to create dips into her flesh. She smoothed her hands down his chest and hooked her fingers over his leather belt, tugging him to her so she was pressed into the wall once more. 

Dean was short of breath, his cheeks and ears becoming scarlet red when she started to undo his belt, staring into his eyes daringly. He slid his hands down her thighs, and sneaked them up under the mini-dress. The soft cotton rode up with his hands, his fingers hooking against the sides of satin, beige panties, swiftly pulling down so they dropped down around her ankles. 

“Fuck, it’s like your horny all the time,” she whispered with a breathy laugh, wasting no time in tugging his jeans and boxers down. Her hand instantly circled around the base of his erect cock to squeeze tantalisingly.

“It’s not me being horny all the time, it’s that you’re always so fucking sexy, I can’t resist,” Dean quipped, dropping down to kiss her pushed up breast over the square neck of her dress. 

Dean bent his knees, and stretched his hands down to press his fingers against the back of her thighs, urging her silently to jump so he could lift her up. When she did, she freed his dick, and placed her arms over his shoulders, and her legs around his waist, kissing him once more. Dean ground his hips against her, his hard cock rubbing against her leaking pussy. 

“Please,” she whined, squirming when his cock brushed over her clit repeatedly. “They’re gonna be here in less than thirty minutes, Dean,” she reminded him. He chuckled huskily, but unhurriedly guided his cock to her needy, wet cunt, and pushed in at a tormenting pace.

He could feel her gushing around him, hot and wet. Dean moaned, reaching behind her arched back for the zipper of her dress, lowering it down halfway. He bounced her on his cock once with a smirk on his face, and lowered the straps of her dress off her shoulders, slid his fingers across the neck of it to tug downwards until her breasts spilled out from the tight material. 

Dean instantly began to fuck her into the wall, his thrusts harsh and desperate, wasting no time in building up her orgasm. His fingers scraped up her thighs to tighten around her hips, blunt nails digging into her delicate skin. 

Had the flowery drywall been cheap or damaged, she thought he’d break it down with the force of his thrust. He pounded into her, groaning out with pleasure into her ear before kissing and biting her throat, lovingly licking the red marks he left behind. 

Her clit throbbed with each slap of his pelvic bone against her, her cunt felt hot and full stuffed with his cock, and her muscles were somehow tense and mushy all at once. Lust overcome her will, drawing loud noises of pleasure from her lip, mewls and whimpers of his name that made him fuck her faster and harder.

“Say my name, baby… I love when you say it,” Dean panted against her lips, feeling her pussy clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. With a whine she brought him closer with both her legs and arms, the knot in her belly becoming tighter and tighter.

She could barely speak as every rough thrust stole the oxygen from her lungs. She managed a gasp of his name, brought her hands down between their connected bodies to ghost her fingers beneath his shirt. Her hands slipped upwards and curled around to his back, her manicured nails digging into muscular shoulders, causing him to moan. 

Every thrust drove Dean’s cock into the deepest depths of her vagina, brushing against sweet spots she forgot she had residing against the velvety, ridged walls of her pussy. She clenched around his pulsing cock, her nails scratching down the skin of his back, the knot becoming impossibly tight before she finally let go. Pleasure ran through her like electricity through a circuit, blinding her to the point of seeing an entire galaxy behind tightly shut eyes.

She screamed his name, the way he swore he’d make her scream the first night they were together. He slowed the thrust of his hips as he climaxed almost immediately after she reached hers, his cum spilling into her. Then he started up again, fucking her through her orgasm, until he softened inside her, his cum dripping around them. 

“I think that’s the fastest I’ve made you cum,” he laughed, his voice gravelly. She laughed with him, grateful for the slowness in the way he pulled himself from her, and lowered her weak legs to the wooden floors. 

“I need to pee,” she whispered, leaning against the wall with a smile while he fixed her dress, kissing and licking her nipples until they were tight before covering her back up, and zipping up the dress. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll get your underwear and meet you there,” he smiled softly and kissed her forehead lovingly before she left, pulling his jeans and boxers back up as he observed her very sexy behind.

She turned around with a knowing grin on her flushed face, sending a wink in his direction before she made a turn towards where the bathroom was. 

“I’m fucking you slower tonight!” He shouted after her. 

“Still rough, yeah!?” She called out teasingly, her voice echoing louder now that she was in the bathroom.

➥ my you

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#dean’s 45th birthday celebration #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction

[halfdeadsage]

hihi what is ur fav thing ab sam vs ur fav thing ab dean :)

UM UM UM UM THIS IS SO DIFFICULT OH MY GODS

okokokokok so for sam i love how adorable and dorky and smart he is . i don't know what it is but when i see a guy who is smart and like . knows his shit . i go absolutely feral with heart eyes . to this day i have not forgotten the fact that he got a 174 on his lsats which is 6 points off from a perfect score . LIKE . SWOONING MUCH ?!?!?! and he's just so pretty :( like have you seen him ??? HE'S SO PERFECT . i also love his character development throughout the series in the sense that like ,, he started off not wanting to be hunting again and he still doesn't by the end but you can tell that if he went back to the beginning he wouldn't change his mind about agreeing to go with dean to find their dad . it's not even about the prospect of finding their dad it's the idea that he's back with his older brother and gets to hang out with him again because he idolizes him and loves him . even through their fights he still loves his older brother and i just :((( i have a soft spot for siblings relationships like its so bad . and in general sam is just . literally everything . like i genuinely could go on a tangent about how much i love him because holy shit he is the most perfect human being in the world and i cannot stop staring at him ,, literal heart eyes awooga . as for dean he is also adorable and dorky but in a different way ?? like you can tell he still is strongly connected to his inner child in how goofy he is and how he loves making jokes and being funny . it's part of his coping mechanism to take away from the trauma that is his life and what he goes through during the entire series ,, but something about being able to make jokes and lighten up the mood in any situation is so amazing to me . when i get stressed and feel like crap ,, i just shut down but he still manages to make jokes and laugh which is sososo admirable to me . i also love how he's jumps into a protector role for literally everyone he meets . he's protective of sam and cas and claire and jack . this man is literally the best father to every kid he meets which is so fulfilling and amazing considering his dad was absolute SHIT and he didn't have a good childhood . instead of continuing the cycle and being a bad parental figure to those kids , sam included (even as adults) , he steps up and takes on a role that a lot of kids dream of having . AND WHEN HE WATCHES SCOOBY DOO AND GETS ALL EXCITED WHEN I TELL YOU I CRY WHEN I THINK OF THAT HE'S SO FUCKING ADORABLE I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE . in general , again , HAVE YOU SEEN HIM ?!?! heart eyes awooga crying screaming please marry me oh my gods . all in all i would love to marry them because i am madly in love with both idc idc they're so hot i cannot choose just one . they both have taken up a spot in my heart AND I AM PERFECTLY OKAY WITH THAT !!!!!!

#dean winchester #sam winchester #i think i need help #or therapy #or both #winchester brothers #supernatural #spn #i am madly in love with them #yes both of them they are hot as hell can you blame me

[choco-cherry-chunk]

Shout-out to @dorastevenss for posing the possibility that Spencer and Derek would have three or four kids, while Dean and Cas would have two or three, besides Claire and Jack (which I adore).

With consideration for Moreid, I think it would be likely that they’d have twins first and then either one or two kids after. I think they’d be likely to have twin boys and then at least one girl, but they read very much like “boy dads” in a more vibe sense than misogynistic one, if that makes sense? Despite how unlikely it would be, given their line of work, I feel like Moreid give off a similar vibe to Blanc and Philip, in that (in universes where they have kids) they would have several kids.

Whereas with Dean and Cas, I think they would be very likely to have more girls than boys. I can so see them with two girls and a boy, plus Claire and Jack (so three girls, a boy, and a nonbinary kid), which I think would fit their vibe easily. I’m also simultaneously caught between the vibe of Dean and Cas either having one kid (i.e., caring for Claire and Jack, plus a baby OR Jack decides to allow himself to be his biological age), or they have a shitton of kids, both those adopted via familial connections, hunts, Big Bads, etc. (Ex: Claire, Jack, Emma, Jessie, Ben, etc.) and those that Cas would carry and give birth too. They are PARENTS, damn it.

#criminal minds #moreid #supernatural #destiel #mpreg #dorastevenss

[clairenatural]

okay but i DO think supernatural suffers from Only Dean Matters syndrome, especially in the later seasons. I usually don’t mind this because I too suffer from Dean Winchester Derangement Syndrome BUT something i’m very irritated by is how, twice, they’ve taken kids from cas and given them to dean. that’s very aggressive phrasing but like...both claire and jack were introduced with a distinct unique connection with cas, but then after the introductory period is over, they’re handed almost entirely to dean. claire is more extreme, as she and cas never appear in an episode together again after she bonds with dean in s10. jack is more subtle, as he’s main cast, but as soon as cas does his job introducing jack (and dies for it), the focus is almost entirely on dean’s relationship with jack even when cas is alive again. like yeah that’s his Baby Boy and we get some incredible dadstiel moments but in terms of, like. development and plot it’s all about dean and jack (save for the empty deal, i’ll give them that). this situation is also unfortunate because, while sam and claire are never significantly bonded in the first place, handing jack’s storyline almost entirely to dean also cuts off his relationship development with sam (much worse than with cas). which is upsetting. much like sam and cas’ relationship, sam and jack’s definitely exists stronger offscreen, and i just would have loved to see more moments of just them and see their separate relationship develop post s13

#this is not me Entering The Discourse #i was reminded by it but i've been thinking about this for a long time #they made claire a dean mirror which???? WHY i will question why until i die even though i love it 10/10 #and then obviously the dean and jack tension is just more interesting to explore #like i ADORE dean and his kids i ADORE dean and claire and dean and jack #please this is NOT criticism of dean or dean being a dad at ALL u should all know this by now #but im. really really sad that they never show cas and claire anymore #and he starts losing jack a bit too #and even with the empty deal it feels like. it's about cas and not jack? we NEVER forget how much cas loves jack thats's his KID! #but on the other side?? jack like. doesn't mention him when he's gone u know. idk im sad. they cut that part from 15x19. why. that's his so #and this is on a meta level i dont think Evil Dean Stole Cas' Kid we just. we dont SEE it #it's like. once he does his Job as like. a plot device to get the kids into dean's life he doesn't matter? #which is me being a bitter casgirl but like #that's par for the course of cas being treated as a narrative device instead of a full character #it just. upsets me #he should have been in last holiday ): #and yeah it fucked up sam and jack too #idk this is probably messily phrased bc im Sleepy im about to go to sleep. i might delete it if i get anxious it's gonna start shit #mae.txt #negativity #this is getting more notes so to clarify deancrits this is Not For You #like i said i too have the winchester derangement #dad!dean is my favorite dean and jack make me SOB this is besides all of that

[lucasbarr]

The Kids (May 2020) Finally free

This is a group shot of Dean’s kid from the good spn that lives in my head… from left to right we’ve got: Bobby John (7 yrs), my girl Emma (24yrs), Claire (22 yrs), Krissy (22 yrs), Ben (21 yrs), and de-aged Jack (3 yrs). (Feat @deanspurpleflannel’s cool angel eyes on Claire!)

#supernatural #spn #emma winchester #emmanatural #bobby john #claire novak #krissy chambers #jack kline #maybe I’ll do a companion piece for the Sam girls and maybe one of cas and jack ? #krissy deserves more love as the go Dean coded girl #featuring Claire with a mullet because it’s what she deserves #yes jack dressed himself #buff short haired Emma is what we deserve #serving those bi looks #I feel like her and Bobby John would have a strong bong because they’re both not human and he’s kinda like her person #also she’s the only one that can still lift him like a little kid and enjoys it when she benches him #maybe I’ll post the uncrowned version tomorrow #yes Claire is wearing dean’s silver ring and Bobby John is wearing his bracelet #man I can’t draw clothes or shade but I’m happy with it #also in my head baby Jack adores Ben and idk why I think that’s funny but I do #like he and Dean had a bad relationship in canon. it for some reason he loves Ben #ben braeden #my art tag

[tootiredmotel]

spoiler alert: she keeps it

A coda fic of my beloved 10x20 "Angel Heart" bc Cas and Claire are my everything, for @emeraldcas 's celebration!

Prompt: meaningful moments

1.2k words – read on ao3 or below

First, it's a matter of where.

Dean says that the mall is a safe bet, and he’s probably right. It has options, a wide array of stores with near endless possibilities, so Cas asks him for a ride to the nearest one.

As Dean pulls into the parking lot, he asks "You really think you'll finally win her over like this?"

"I'm not trying to "win her over", Dean." Cas air quotes. "It's her birthday. A present is customary, isn't it?"

It's not a rhetorical question, and Dean seems to understand that after studying Cas's gaze on him.

"Yeah. Yeah it is, buddy."

Once inside, the number of options becomes overwhelming rather than comforting. Hundreds of people bustle about, bumping into them with reckless abandon. Cas pauses a few steps from the entrance, breathing heavily and looking every which way, trying to figure out where to begin and coming up blank.

He’s never been to a mall before. 

Dean, staring daggers at the back of someone who almost trampled them, puts a hand on Cas’s back. “C’mon. Let’s try this way,” he says, leading him down the hall to their right.

They walk for a while. Cas quietly studies every store they pass, while Dean speaks up every two minutes with a new idea. Tech store? A new phone. Clothing store? A jacket, hers is looking a bit worn. Shoe store? Do you know her size? We can get her some boots or something.

“Dean,” Cas finally says, stopping in his tracks and grabbing Dean’s arm. He's grateful for the ride, and he's grateful for Dean’s suggestions. Really, he is. “Thank you, but… This is my gift to her. I need to choose on my own.”

Dean starts doing that adorable thing where he can’t decide if he wants to shake his head or nod. “Uh, yeah, no. No problem, angel. You got this. I’ll shut up.”

Right now, Cas is less focused on the gift itself and more on finding a store that feels fitting, one that Claire might pick out on her own. He puts his hands in his pockets and scans the stores in sight. Further down the hall, one storefront stands out. The walls are black, the windows dimly lit, and the sign is made of backlit block letters. It feels… edgy. She’d like it.

“There.” Cas nods toward it. “The Hot Topical.”

The other thing is the matter of what.

Luckily, the Hot Topical seems to have a bit of everything. Dean sets off on his own soon after walking in, saying something about some Star Wars character or other. There's an overwhelming amount of pop culture merchandise, most of which Cas now recognizes. But he's not sure what kind of shows or movies Claire likes, so he opts against those.

Walking deeper into the store, he comes across the jewelry displays. Claire might like some, maybe stud earrings or a necklace, nothing too frilly. But if she's going to keep hunting, and she is, it's not very practical to wear things that can get caught and slow her down. He keeps walking.

The music section is mostly t-shirts. This is where he finds Dean, eyeing the wall curiously, but not looking like he's going to buy.

“Find anything?” Dean asks when he feels Cas next to him.

“Not yet.”

“You will. You got this," he says again, and Cas greatly appreciates the vote of confidence.

Dean turns his attention back to the shirts, and Cas, who isn't all that sure about Claire’s music taste either, goes over to the furthermost wall.

The back of the store is where they keep the miscellaneous things, apparently. One half of the wall is full of small, bobblehead-ish figurines whose heads don’t bobble (as Cas discovers when he picks one of the boxes up and shakes it). The other half of the wall has quite a few things: bags and backpacks on display, a few accessories such as mesh gloves that wouldn’t keep one warm in the slightest, and unnecessarily intricate belts. At the bottom of the wall, however, he spots some shelves with plushies.

That’s where something catches Cas’s eye.

Dean is already at the back of the line when Cas gets there. He's buying an enamel Scooby-Doo keychain and says it's because Baby's is old and he needs a new one; the unbridled delight in his eyes gives him away, though.

"A stuffed animal?" He asks when he notices what Cas is holding. There's no judgment in it. A bit of amusement and maybe, just maybe, a hint of fondness, Cas thinks.

Cas holds up the cat for Dean to take and examine. "It's an... inside thing."

"Right," Dean says, and hands it back.

Dean asks if he even has any money, to which Cas doesn't answer, realizing he doesn't. Dean happily pays for both items.

---

"She kept it, y'know," Dean says behind him, the next day. He pats Cas's shoulder, then heads back to the car, keys jingling against the new keychain.

Castiel stands there for a second, watching the cab roll completely out of the parking lot and out of sight, and he's wishing he could have hugged her longer. Despite having him and the Winchesters and soon Jody Mills, despite knowing she'll always have them… Claire is more alone now than she's ever been. Cas knows she's tough, tougher than she should've had to be, but she's still a kid (as much as she insists she's not). 

He… doesn't pray. Not anymore. But he hopes. He hopes for her every day, hopes for her wellness and safety, hopes he'll be able to see her face again and not just read her words or hear her voice through a phone. And right this second, he's also hoping that his present to her, (which she kept, Cas thinks fondly), will be able to serve its purpose. That it'll be a small source of comfort if she were to ever need it.

---

That night, as Claire settles into a motel bed, she gets a text from Cas. It's a Grumpy Cat meme, one of many cat memes she's received from him since they agreed to stay in touch more. In this one, the image is the cat lying in bed with that face of his, and it says "How many people got trampled on Black Friday this year? Not enough". 

After having cried herself out in the backseat of the cab, she actually smiles for the first time all afternoon; it's not a wide or toothy smile but it's a smile, and she lets out an amused exhale through her nose, so that's something.

She texts him haha and the eye roll emoji.

Are you safe? Cas shoots back.

She double-checked all the locks on all the doors and windows. She's got a knife under the pillow and a gun under the bed. She's all set to get to Jody's by tomorrow. She breathes deep, squeezing the plushie tighter against her chest, and texts back.

I am. Night Cas

She doesn't have time to put the phone down before it dings again.

Good night, Claire. Sweet dreams.

They probably won't be all that sweet. They haven't been sweet in years. But at least now, when the bitter dreams inevitably wake her up, she's got something to hold. Or maybe strangle. Depends on the dream.

Plus, she's got an angel-dad watching over her, too. In a sense.

Claire lets the dryness in her eyes and the heaviness in her body take over, and she falls asleep. Grumpy Cat in hand.

---

Fic taglist: ask to be added or removed! <3

@casismymrdarcy @youcaneven @zorelle @spooky-floral-cas @lilcasx @oh-in-italics @theehunterhusbands @knifelesbianjo @spoookycastiel @shakespeareintellectualbadass @stressedtaco @aniridescentdreamer @mishacase2003 @spookymixtape @dykekingofhell @evermorecastiel @autumncastiel @nightandwine @doyouhearthedestielsing @all-or-nothing-baby @hauntedrederadean @ciderdean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @heres-to-evil-skanks @wormstacheangel @the-boy-kings-crown @10x02 @the-moon-loves-the-sea @ghostlynatural @one-more-offbeat-anthem @spookynightdeancas

#emeraldcas1k #gen.fics #started posting at midnight for day 1 im not stopping now <3 #also the meaningful moments are already in the ep im just filling in the blanks bc i love them sm #spncreatorsdaily #creativecaviar #userjennmish #userdorksinlove #userstarry #tuserari #plantdadcas #offbeattraxx #thisisapaige #lyntracks #rambleoncas #userpris #sunnyfaith #user_k #uservilma #meltingtracks #gen creates

[myaimistrue]

happy birthday jack!!!!! <3

you can also read this on my ao3

Jack never asks for anything, is the thing. He’s a good kid, a sweet kid, and he’s pretty much happy as long as everybody else is—which, these days, isn’t the tall order it used to be, but still. He doesn’t need much, or ask for much. So a few days before Jack’s fourth birthday, when he comes to dinner all excited about something he wants to do to celebrate, Dean already knows they’re going to make it happen, regardless of what it is.

“I was talking to Cas, and he told me we could do whatever I want for my birthday this year.” Jack’s eyes dart between Dean and Cas—Sam and Eileen are on their way back from a hunt in Nebraska—and Dean finds himself ridiculously endeared by it. “I thought about it a lot. And I think I know what I want to do.”

“Shoot,” Dean says. He just hopes whatever it is won’t make too much of a dent in their bottomless credit cards.

“I want to go to the beach.” Jack says it all in a rush, like he’s been working up to it for a while now. “Cas, we watched that documentary about sea turtles, and all I could think about is how I’ve never spent any real time at the ocean. And then I googled it, and did you guys know all the things you can do at the beach?” His eyes are sparkling with excitement now. “There’s surfing and swimming and jetskis and we could play volleyball or fly a kite or—”

“Woah, Jack, slow down.” Dean cuts in, keeping an easy smile on his face to reassure the kid, because he’s gotten himself all worked up. “You wanna go to the beach? That’s what you wanna do for your birthday?”

Jack takes a steadying breath, like Sam taught him to do when he gets over-excited, then says, “Yes. Yes, for my birthday I’d like to go to the beach.”

Dean and Cas exchange a brief, fond look.

“Well, I think we can make that work, can’t we, Dean?” Cas says, unable to keep that soft smile off his face, the one that always shows up when Jack’s being adorable—which is pretty much all the time.

“I think so.” Dean grins at the way Jack’s rocking back and forth on his heels, like he’s already thrilled but doesn’t want to jinx anything by showing it. “Sam and Eileen’ll be back tonight… we could get going tomorrow and be there by your birthday.”

“Really? You’re sure?” 

“Of course, Jack,” Cas says warmly. “We’ll start planning now.”

Dean’s grin only widens. “I’ve already got a few ideas in mind. Jack, come with me—we’ve got some maps to look over.”

Which is how, roughly forty-eight hours of packing, planning, and road-tripping later, the whole Winchester-Leahy-Kline family is on the beach having the time of their lives.

Jack immediately fell in love with the ocean. They’ve been here for a couple hours now, and the kid’s barely left the waves, splashing around like he’s never been so happy. He can’t swim, technically, so they make him stay close to shore, but that doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Cas even bought Jack a pair of water wings that he absolutely adores—they have fire trucks on them.

Jack’s out there now, playing some kind of game with Cas, Sam, and Eileen that involves a lot of laughter and tackling each other into the water. Dean’s watching them all from the shore, relaxed back on brand new beach towel they bought on the way here. Four years. He can’t believe the kid is that old already. The fact settles warmly in his chest, reassuring and peaceful.

“Dean!” Jack is sprinting out of the water toward Dean, happy and golden and practically radiating goodness. The rush of love Dean feels for his son at that moment is almost staggering. “Dean, come play with us!”

And, well. He looks to waves, where Eileen and Cas are laughing about something while Sam attempts to float on his back like an idiot. He looks back at Jack’s smiling, sweet face.

“I love you,” Dean says, suddenly seized by the importance that he says it. “You know that, right, kid?”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but it’s not for Jack to actually roll his eyes—God, Claire is a terrible influence. “Yeah, Dean, I know. I love you too.”

Jack says it like it’s so damn obvious, which makes Dean actually start to tear up a little. He wipes at his eyes like it’s just sweat from the heat—Jack doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s already glancing back at the ocean, like he can’t stand to be away from it for too long.

Dean slings an arm around the kid before he can get too wildly emotional and wreck his birthday with a heart to heart or something. “Alright, Jack, what are we playing?”

Jack launches immediately into a long and winding explanation that makes little to no sense, but Dean doesn’t mind. He just squeezes Jack a little tighter and follows him to the water.

#userzaddy #rambleoncas #holmesemrys #gardenercas #seffersonjtarship #offbeattraxx #kashmircastiel #nougatparty #jack #dean #cas #sam #eileen #deancas #destiel #jack kline #del's writing #they deserve to go to the beach that's all i'm saying #i have a beach trip agenda for these characters

[forlove2020]

Suptober Day 9 - Body Mods

In retrospect, Dean should’ve known better.

Claire has been hanging around more lately, and that's not a bad thing; it’s quite the opposite. Cas loves to spend time with her, and no matter how many cruel age jokes she makes at his expense, Dean is always happy to see her. 

Jack adores Claire; he follows her around the house talking nonstop. He asks Claire unending questions on a wide array of topics. Her childhood; hunts; Kaia; nail polish remover; community college; Batman; even her favorite color of crayon. Nothing is off-limits. 

Despite her surly attitude and gruff replies, Claire is genuinely fond of Jack. She lets him get away with a broader scope of questioning than anybody else, and though she’d never admit it, she’s flattered that he considers her to be his sister.

She fits in with the three of them seamlessly; the short visits are almost always good ones, and Dean and Cas give her the guest bedroom whenever she wants or needs to stay longer. To Jack, Claire is a cool older sibling whose attention and affection he will do anything to keep. To Dean and Cas, she’s their surrogate daughter. Odd as the dynamic may be, it’s worked well for everyone so far. 

That’s why, when Jack goes on a trip with Kaia, Alex, and Patience, it doesn’t raise too many alarms for Dean. It isn’t as if they’re going on a hunt - Donna’s cousin has a water-front cabin on Lewis and Clark Lake that the kids are renting from her for four days. They're on a vacation, which still seems like a strange concept to the more seasoned hunters in this Post-Chuck world.

Dean and Cas did some discreet digging through archives and local news stories to gauge the likelihood of the young adults running into danger while on the trip, but everything seemed aboveboard in the area. There were a few drownings in the lake a couple decades ago during a really rainy year. Nothing that causes Cas concern or creates any worries that keep Dean up all night.

Claire, Kaia, Alex, Patience and Jack are at the lakehouse for a grand total of six hours before they find a case. Turns out the teenagers that drowned in the lake during the early 2000’s were murdered, and now they’ve come back as ghosts to finish off the innocent descendants of their murderer: a reclusive fisherman who'd committed suicide only two months prior.

 Just frickin’ peachy.

Dean is halfway through packing up his rifles and his fishing rods when Cas stops him with a hand lightly pressed to his sleeve. “Dean. I think we should let them handle this.”

“What? No - c’mon, Cas, they’re just kids. We can head out and have those ghosts ganked by tomorrow evening, and then you and I can sit by the lake, stick a blanket on Baby’s hood and lay back under the moon and stars....”

Cas smiles, and brushes a kiss to Dean’s jaw. “Well, I think that sounds nice. Romantic, even. But they’re not kids, Dean. They can handle a couple of ghosts without us.” 

“Jack’s a kid,” Dean protests. “I mean, he does look like a grown ass man, but we both know he’s only four.”

“Yes, he is four,” Cas agrees gently, “But he’s also the most powerful being to ever walk this Earth, and maybe even the most powerful person to ever exist. He’s not in any danger from a ghost or two. And Claire and the other girls are skillful Hunters. They may be young, but think of all they have each gone through, then look me in the eye and tell me you consider them still children.”

Dean blows out a breath, looking away. “Yeah, okay. Fine. God, I hate it when you’re right.” He leans in to peck a quick kiss at the corner of Cas’ mouth to soften the bite of his words. 

Cas doesn't answer back, a look of supercilious triumph on his face. He can afford to be a gracious winner.

Jack updates them on the case frequently in a group chat that also includes Sam and Eileen, and Dean worries a little less with each text or gruesome photo of corpses Jack sends because it means they're all still safe and alive. 

By nine o'clock on the second night, the case is solved. The ghosts have moved on, and the civilians are saved. Dean feels slightly weak in the knees with relief when he hears the news, and though Cas is the one who had made the argument to stay back, his tense shoulders finally relax.

Later that evening, the messages Jack sends them take on a strange quality. At first, Dean can’t quite put his finger on why he's bothered so much. The texts are unclear and stilted, and the photos Jack takes seem blurry, as if his hands were shaking when he snapped the shot. Dean squints down at the pictures on his phone because he is too stubborn to purchase glasses (Eileen has been ribbing him lately about couples who start to look like one another after a while; she says Dean now squints as badly as Cas). Everybody in the picture seems fine; they’re grinning broadly at the camera while warming themselves by a cheerful bonfire. It seems that they are roasting marshmallows. Claire and Kaia are cozied up together on a fallen log with a plaid blanket on their laps, Patience waves, and Alex gives the camera a peace sign: her mouth is open mid-sentence. 

Dean’s eyes narrow suspiciously. They seem happy. Too happy.

The next morning as Dean goes down to the kitchen to start coffee, he checks his messages. Fewer and fewer texts came in as it got later, and so far this morning, no messages have been sent. He frowns, puts the phone back in his pocket, and gets started on making breakfast. 

By noon, there are still no texts. Cas shrugs when Dean mentions the lack of communication, saying that he hopes it means they’re having a good time. 

At 2pm, Sam calls Dean.

“Well?” Sam begins without preamble.

“Either they’re in some kind of trouble, or they're making their own trouble as they go along,” Dean answers shortly. Sam didn't need to say what he's thinking; despite hunting less and living further apart, they're still on the same wavelength. Sam and Dean grew up relying on one another when they had nobody else to depend on and that’s something that distance cannot diminish. 

“Mhmm.” There’s muffled background noise on Sam’s end, and Dean hears him murmuring to the sleepy baby Eileen's just placed in his arms. “Cas worried?”

“Not yet,” Dean grunts, looking out the window. Cas has taken Miracle for a walk, but they’ll probably stop and check in on Cas’ garden after they’ve come back inside. “He trusts them.”

At that, Sam lets out a quiet huff of amusement, attempting not to startle his sleeping child. “Yeah, you’ve raised a lot of kids at this point, Dean. Cas hasn’t had as much experience with the kind of trouble they can get into. Hell, it’s not like he was ever even a kid to begin with.”

Dean sighs. He’s worried about Jack and Claire, about all of them, really, and he’s tempted to call Jack so he can try to weasel out some kind of information about what’s going on, but at the same time….

“I trust them too, Sammy,” Dean admits. “It’s hard as hell to relax, but they’re good kids. Good people. And they know we’ve got their backs if they really need us.”

“Aw, look who’s finally a grown-up,” Sam teases, “I guess love really can change a man. Hey, tell Cas from me that- ”

Dean hangs up on Sam. He can get away with it; they’re on the same wavelength after all.

At 4:50 pm, not long after Cas picks up and sets his phone down twice in a row to see if he’s missed any messages, Jack finally texts them.

Hi! We are packing up tonight and then we’ll be home tomorrow afternoon! XOXO - Jack

Dean and Cas squint at their respective phones with suspicion.  Dean raises an eyebrow at Cas, who stubbornly refuses to engage in speculation by ignoring the pointed look Dean casts in his direction.

A full day passes. Jack sends them a photo or a text here and there on the drive home; a picture of bored cows munching grass in the fields, a comment on how much he likes the new single by Adele (Cas Googles it immediately), a hilarious meme about the Backstreet Boys, and so on. 

What Jack does not do is mention the near radio silence he'd kept on the day before.

The sun’s just beginning to set as Claire’s car pulls up the long driveway of the home Dean and Cas built on an acre of property the Men of Letters owned. It is on the outskirts of the forest, above a portion of the Bunker so that the warding can extend into their house. 

Cas opens his arms wide as Jack, Claire, and Kaia stumble out of the car, and Dean notices, as Jack sinks into his father’s arms, how the boy tries to hide a wince when Cas’ hands land on the space between his shoulder blades.

“So, how was the trip?” Dean asks casually, thumping Claire’s back as he goes to hug her. She winces even worse than Jack. 

Interesting.

“We kicked ghost-ass,” Jack answers matter-of-factly as he cautiously extracts himself from Cas’s arms.  Clearly, it’s a phrase that someone else used and Jack has adopted.

The bags under Kaia’s eyes seem deeper than usual; she must not have slept much lately. “It was a straightforward hunt. Jack did really well.”

“I never had any doubt,” Cas tells her warmly. 

Claire clears her throat. Her face is haggard and she’s rolling her shoulders and neck like she’s uncomfortable, desperate to get back on the road. “Well, we’ve dropped the kid off safe and sound. Kaia and I are gonna hit it, we’re heading back to Sioux Falls tonight. Alex and Patience went straight home. We’ll see ya later.” She takes Kaia’s hand, and turns, preparing to flee.

“Not. So. Fast,” Dean thunders.

Everyone freezes. Cas alone looks confused, the others avoid Dean’s glare guiltily.

“Jack, shirt off,” he orders abruptly.

Eyes widening, Jack looks at Claire and Kaia for help, then turns his gaze pleadingly on Cas. “What are you talking about? Why? It’s too cold out here, Dean!”

Cas looks at Dean for a long moment, and silent but thorough communication passes between them. Cas turns back to Jack, folding his arms across his chest, and says neutrally, “I believe Dean must have a good reason since he’s asking you, Jack.”

“But Castiel, I...oh, fine.” Jack slumps dejectedly. He pulls off the flannel and the soft t-shirt underneath, and turns around so they can all see his back.

There, on the raw curve of skin emblazoned with vivid lime green ink, is tattooed the words:

                                                      Ghostfacers!

“Okay, look,” Claire interrupts at the sight of their expressions. “It’s not Jack’s fault! We had a couple beers at the bar to celebrate and then we went back to the house and made a couple pitchers of margaritas and...I think we probably did shots at some point too - and then were really reeaallly drunk and still drunk the next day, and the tattoo parlor seemed like a great idea at the time because there was this sale -”

“And what did you get, Claire?” Dean interrupts suddenly, because Cas’ long buried Wrath-of-God face just made an unexpected reappearance, and even though Dean’s mad at them for being so careless, he’s not quite angry enough that he wants Cas to kill both of their kids.

Claire’s face flushes crimson.

“It says ‘Claire ‘n Kaia 4 evah’ in hot pink. It’s spelled out like it sounds,” Jack explains helpfully. Claire buries her face in her hands, mortified, and Kaia cringes with sympathy.

Dean blinks. “Wow. That’s...uh.” He clears his throat and looks at Kaia. “Well. And what did you get stuck with, Good Twin?”

She shuffles, embarrassed. “Oh. Um, the sale was two for the price of one and there were five of us, so…” Kaia shrugs. Dean can’t help but laugh. This one's a smart cookie. The absurdity of the awful tattoos is making his irritation fade away. 

Cas definitely isn't on the same page yet. He blows a breath out of his nose, aggrieved. Dean squeezes his arm, amused despite himself. “Easy, tiger. Kids do dumb shit like this all the time. It’s part of the parenting experience.”

“And when does the part of parenting that prevents them from being so idiotic kick in?” Cas demands. 

“I don’t know, Sam still seems like a dumbass to me - so, maybe never? But these three seem pretty sorry. I think they've learned their lesson. Hangovers ain't pretty." The trio nod in miserable agreement.

Cas’ eyes narrow into thin slits. "No, Dean. I think what you meant to say was: you are grounded, Jack, until we're sure you understand the errors you've made. Claire, Kaia; you may technically be adults, but Jack was your responsibility this weekend, and because of this you've lost our trust. I will be calling Jody tonight to inform her of what's happened, and you will not be taking Jack anywhere with you in the near future." Cas raises his hands against the barrage of protests and complaints that immediately come his way. "Don't bother. I'm not changing my mind. I'm extremely disappointed in each of you." He looks at Dean with exasperation. “You deal with them, Dean. I’m going to go make dinner.” Abruptly, he turns and storms back into the house, and Miracle wags her tail, oblivious to the tension, following him inside.

What a drama king, Dean thinks fondly even as he rolls his eyes. God, I love him.

Jack, Kaia and Claire watched Cas go dejectedly. Dean claps his hands and chuckles. “Whoo boy, are you guys on his shit list.” He nods at the door. “C’mon, let's go and help Mr. Smitey with dinner.”

“Uhm, are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t think we should get in his way right now.” Kaia seems nervous at the thought; she’d never met Cas during his initial Celestial Terror days. 

Dean’s glad they’re disconcerted. Maybe Cas has put the fear of god into them…Dean darts a quick look at Jack. Uh, metaphorically speaking, of course. “Don’t worry about it too much. I’ve pissed off Cas way worse than this, let me tell you. Man….” He shakes his head at the memories. “Anyhow, give him some time to cool off and I’ll talk to him. We'll work it out. He'll forgive you guys sooner than you think." He nods at the door. “Now get in there and help him peel potatoes.”

The young adults file into the house with trepidation, leaving Dean to stand outside by himself.  He stays there a moment, thinking of terrible tattoos and the poor choices that these kids, his kids have made, and then thinks further back to his own childhood, and how John would have reacted to the same situation. At first Dean smiles grimly to himself, then sighs and lets the pain of his past melt away, pushing it back into the recesses of his memory where it belongs. He's not the same man his father was; he's different in ways that Dean hopes are for the better.

He opens the door to his own house, this wonderful home he and Cas have built together after all of the years of sweat, blood, and tears that preceded, and he hears the sounds of life and love contained within. Dean smiles, genuinely this time, and goes inside, letting the door swing softly shut behind him.

                                                      END

            ******************************************************************

I’m still playing catch up! Here’s day 9 on day 11...oh well! Any writing is better than none, y’know?

My goal is to make most of the Suptober 21 prompts I write one shots that will tie in to my work in progress fix-it fic (Destiel, Saileen, post 15x20, etc.)

Thank you for reading!

-V

#Destiel #saileen #Jack Kline #claire novak #kaia nieves #dean winchester #CASTIEL WINCHESTER #sam winchester #eileen leahy #found family #dean and cas are Jack's parents #bunker family #team free will 2.0 #miracle the dog #domesticity #they were family #they all deserved to be happy #they all deserved so much better #othervorld writes #suptober21

[billiewena]

what is the best lesbian book/TV show in your opinion

hi! no idea how I got this ask since I'm but a simple bisexual spn blogger (which means I have bad taste by default) but always happy to give recs! don't know if there's any I can say is the "best" since they all have different merits and appeal.

TV SHOWS

haunting of bly manor (horror drama with a lesbian ghost love story, bittersweet ending but soooo good)

vida (dramedy with a nice mix of queer, lesbian a,nd actually butch characters...also emma hernandez is my ultimate "my wife is a bitch and I like her SO much" anyways I wish more people talked about this show)

she-ra and the princess of power (animated kids show, sapphic childhood best friends to enemies to lovers my beloved)

killing eve (crime thriller, insane enemies-AND-lovers dynamic, very sad this is ending...this is my hannibal)

sense8 (sci-fi-y action thriller show with a big cast of many queer characters and okay this is just an excuse to recommend this show but LISTEN nomi and amanita are the HEART of it and I adore them...bonus points for being the first trans lesbian couple on TV too <3)

one day at a time (family sitcom with a very charlie bradbury-esque nerdy lesbian that I adore and wish I had growing up)

wynonna earp (spn but they're sisters and also funnier and the sam-esque sister is hella gay)

and obligatory "the l word: generation q" shout-out if you just want some soap opera level lesbian drama (specifically generation q...I cannot ethically recommend the original but luckily you don't need to watch it to enjoy the reboot!)

BOOKS haven't been much a big reader since college tbh and most of it since has been YA/new adult but I do have some recs in that department at least:

kings, queens and in-betweens by tanya boteju

the miseducation of cameron post by emily danforth (has a movie adaptation too!)

not your sidekick by c.b. lee

let's take about love by claire kann (ace rights)

like water by rebecca podos

and also the graphic novels "heavy vinyl" & "laura dean keeps breaking up with me"

#I have opinions on almost all sapphic tv if you do want it lmao #there's a lot more I can add but haven't finished yet #and a lot of shows I loveeee but would never recommend for the gay rep alone #anyways #pspspsps someone talk to me about sense8 #asks

[legless-fish-on-rollerskates]

It is now baby jack posting hours because i cannot fucking deal with this script shit anymore

Claire babysits when dean and cas go on couples hunts and sam isn't available. She complains about it to everyone around her, but secretly loves it. (Jody loves it too, because it means claire is hunting less). She and kaia take him to the park and someone assumes they're his moms. Claire is of course like, "he's my brother what the fuck how old do you think i am," but also she kind of abruptly realizes that she is actually old enough to conceivably have a three-year-old son and wow isn't that a scary thought.

(Later that night kaia quietly asks her if she thinks she might ever want kids. Claire's never considered it before but now she starts to wonder. Maybe. Maybe someday.)

Sam, dean, and cas are all jack's dads, of course. Charlie, eileen, amara, and meg are aunts, and so are jody and donna. Claire is his sister and alex is his cousin and it makes no sense but the important part is that they're family, it doesn't matter so much how.

He's god but only symbolically. Amara runs everything. The only thing jack has to do is represent the light and keep the balance. Personally, he thinks he's doing a very good job.

Charlie calls him her little comet and loves to come up with stories with him. They write the best ones down in a book. It has a place of honor in the bunker library.

Jack will fall asleep anywhere (he's still so very small), but his absolute favorite place to sleep is on dean. On his lap, on his shoulder, held in his arms, it doesn't matter. Jack is tired and dean is there? Dean is getting used as a pillow. That's just how it is. Cas thinks it's adorable. Sam will never admit to anyone that he's jealous, but he is. Dean has resigned himself to it.

He also will eat ANYTHING. You have coins? Keys, perhaps? Jewelry? Buttons? Legos? They're going in jack's mouth. Cas is constantly terrified of jack choking, and everyone goes ridiculously all-out to childproof the bunker in any and every way possible.

Sometimes when jack has tantrums things explode, but he's always very sorry afterwards. Sometimes when he sneezes he creates things, like socks or flowers or, one memorable time, an entire hive of bees. He likes to manifest his wings in the physical world and fly around the bunker. Dean has several videos on his phone of sam tripping over his own feet chasing after a chubby, winged three-year-old flying higher than even he can reach.

...yeah okay that's all i have for now, hope this gave some of y'all a much-needed break

#baby!jack #baby jack kline #dadstiel #dad dean #dad sam #claire novak #charlie bradbury #claire x kaia #dreamhunter #destiel #found family #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester

[haus-seeblick]

Operation Stop the Flirting

A fic for Suptober Day 15: “Blue Skies and Apple Pies”

Cowritten with tsujiharu! 

Rating: General Audiences; Ship: Castiel/Dean Winchester; WC: 5,100

Full tags under the cut! :)

Summary: Every morning since Cas and Jack moved in next door, Claire has been forced to watch her dad engage in the cringiest flirting she's ever seen. It's becoming clear that neither Dean nor Cas will ever make it to the next step without some well-planned intervention; so, nearing the end of her rope, Claire enlists Jack's help to finally get these dumb old men together. The harvest festival sounds like the perfect setting.

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Supernatural, Claire POV, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Just all the fluff, Kid Fic, Single Dad!Dean, Single dad!Cas, Neighbors, Matchmakers Claire and Jack, They Parent Trap the Shit Out of Them, Disaster flirting, Claire is Sick of Their Shit, Teenager Claire, Kindergartener Jack, Birthday, Dean is Claire's Parent, Castiel is Jack's Parent

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Morning, sunshine!” Dean’s voice fills the kitchen, way too chipper for the hour. Claire forces down the last bite of her waffles and rolls her eyes. Her dad’s got the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he puts dishes into the sink, conducting way more of a conversation than is necessary to ask if Cas and Jack are ready to go. Claire grabs her backpack and is in the hall lacing up her Doc Martens by the time Dean says “‘Kay, see you in a sec,” and hangs up with a big smile. He glances around the kitchen, obviously about to open his mouth to call for her, but she beats him to it.

“Already at the door, old man!” She waves jauntily when he spots her. “I know you’re busy chatting up Mr. Blue-Sky Eyes, but try to keep up.”

Dean fixes her with a glare that’s supposed to be stern, but the blush on his cheeks kills the effect. “Watch it, kid.”

Claire just snorts and steps out onto the porch. The crisp fall air seeps into her collar and she shivers. Winter’s getting closer - she’ll have to switch out her Moto jacket for an actual coat pretty soon. She pops her collar and pulls it closed in front of her throat. Behind her, Dean shuts the door and drops a knitted scarf onto her head.

“Who’s keeping up now, huh?” He pushes past her down the stairs and Claire huffs, pulling the scarf off her head and patting down her hair. Her dad’s never bundled her up like this before; the scarf was a gift from Cas. It’s ugly as sin, all lumpy blues and greens, but Claire dutifully wraps it around her neck. Just for the morning. It’ll go straight into her backpack before school.

“Claire!” An excited shriek rings out from next door, and Claire glances over to see Jack sprinting down the sidewalk, arms outstretched. Cas is still up on the porch, locking the door of the townhouse right next to theirs.

“Hey, kid,” Claire calls. She meets him at the bottom of the stairs, patting him on the back once or twice as he throws his arms around her waist. She can’t help the small smile that sneaks through her trained cool-girl demeanor (probably already wrecked, courtesy of the scarf). So sue her, Jack’s adorable. “Cool hat.”

Jack pulls on the tassels of his monkey hat, huge grin on his face, the gaps in his teeth on full display. “Thanks!” he lisps. “Daddy got it for me.”

Speaking of dads — Claire looks past Jack to find her father unabashedly ogling their neighbor (a daily tradition of the Winchester-Novak morning carpool). It’s like he’s not even aware he’s in public.

“You gonna open the garage?” she calls. Knowing it’ll be a while before Dean can tear himself away, she adds “Gimme the keys, I’ll get Jack in his seat and warm up Baby.”

Cas, who has joined them on the sidewalk after struggling with the door under Dean’s gaze, smiles gratefully at her. “Thank you, Claire.”

Snapping out of his trance, Dean mumbles “Yeah, thanks kid,” and tosses her the garage and car keys.

Claire makes quick work of the booster seat, familiar with the routine of straps and buckles. She checks to make sure Jack is comfortable, then slides into the driver’s seat and turns the ignition to warm up the Impala. Tapping her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, she glances into the rearview mirror, only to see the two grown men standing way too close to one another to be socially acceptable, staring into each other’s eyes as if they don’t see each other every friggin’ day. It would be cute if Claire didn’t have to deal with this every morning.

“Jack, cover your ears,” she says with a wink into the mirror, and waits for Jack to gleefully clap his hands over his ears (he knows this trick by now) before slamming her palm onto the horn. Dean and Cas jump apart and Claire rolls the window down, leaning out and sweetly calling “Sorry, my arm slipped!”

Dean points his best you’re in trouble finger at her and she clambers over the backrest to join Jack on the backseat. She’s buckled in, a picture of innocence, by the time Dean and Cas get into the car.

“You gotta stop doing that.” Dean adjusts the mirror as if Claire had messed it up. “You’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood.”

“You’re gonna make Cas late with all your flirt—”

“—Okay!” Dean hastily revs the engine, starting the radio at the same time. The volume’s still super high from one of their open-window freeway joyrides this weekend, and Cas twitches violently. Jack’s laughter peals over the wailing guitar as Dean backs out of the garage one handed, the other hand frantically toggling the volume knob.

“So much for me waking up the whole neighborhood,” Claire says smugly when they’re finally on the road.

Cas pats Dean’s shoulder reassuringly, hand lingering far too long, as usual. “Don’t worry, Dean. We’re right on time. Thank you for taking me to work.”

“‘Course, buddy,” Dean says, pulling them onto the main street. It’s bustling with commuter traffic. “Can’t have you sitting on the bus all morning.”

Every day. Claire gazes skyward and pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket. They do this every day. Cas’ll agonize about inconveniencing them, Dean will tell him it’s no big deal, and they’ll spend the rest of the ride engaged in the absolute worst flirting Claire has ever heard. Also, it is a big deal — Claire’s had to get up half an hour earlier every morning of her junior year just so they can “take Cas to work real quick” before school.

Cas works on the opposite end of town. When Claire tried pointing this out, Dean just waved his hand and said it’s just what you do for friends. Not once has Claire ever had to get up early or rearrange her day for any of his other friends. Not even for Uncle Sam.

She finds it hard to actually be mad about it, though. In the six months since Cas and Jack moved in next door, her dad’s been more fun than he’s been in ages. He laughs more, wants to go out more, and has even started up some hobbies. (Woodworking in their cramped garage didn’t turn out to be the smartest idea.) He’s always been content with everything they have and would never complain to Claire, but she knows he’s been lonely.

Then Cas moved in next door, and within a week, everything changed. Claire knew Cas was special the second that her dad described the new guy next door as having “blue eyes, you know, like the sky.” She’s never gonna let him live that one down.

So, sure, having Cas and Jack around is great. But that doesn’t mean she wants to witness this train wreck every morning. Scrolling Twitter on her phone, she tries hard to block out the snippets of conversation floating from the front seat, but unfortunately can’t ignore it all. She accidentally tunes back in just as Dean’s finishing up a story about this year’s Staff Halloween Costume Competition. He’s going as an ‘80s P.E. Teacher and is weirdly, overly proud about the tiny red shorts that Claire was scandalized to see laid out on the couch this weekend. No one, no one her dad’s age should be wearing shorts like that. She shudders at the memory.

“I’m sure they will look very flattering on you,” Cas says sincerely, and Claire nearly barfs. She doesn’t miss her dad’s pink cheeks in the side mirror. Thank god, they’re pulling up in front of Cas’ work and this torture is coming to an end.

“Have a great day, you two,” Cas says, twisting over the backrest to give Jack a high five and exchange a smile with Claire.

“We will,” Claire says, making a show of looking out the window. “Gorgeous day. Look at that blue sky. Remind you of anything, Dad?”

Dean chokes on his swig of coffee. Eyes watering, he waves off Cas’ concerned attempts to slap him on the back.

“Okay. Bye Cas,” he manages, voice strained.

“Goodbye, Dean,” Cas replies gravely. “See you tonight.” He gets out of the car and shuts the door, and Claire doesn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes follow him all the way into the building. She clears her throat.

“We gonna go, or what?”

Dean straightens up, putting his thermos back between his legs. “You’re in trouble, kid.”

“It’s just payback,” Claire says innocently, inspecting her nails. Dean grumbles, but they pass the rest of the ride to the school in relative peace, Jack roping them both into a spirited game of I Spy.

They drop Jack off first, since the elementary school is two blocks away from the high school where Claire goes to class and Dean’s the gym teacher. Jack turns back three times to wave at them as he bounces up the path to his Kindergarten classroom. His normal-sized backpack looks huge on him. Claire thinks he’s the cutest kid in the whole damn world, not that she’d tell anyone.

“So, kiddo,” Dean asks, maneuvering Baby through the throngs of parents dropping off their students. “You thought any more about your birthday? It’s coming up pretty quick.” He parks in a less-populated area of the high school lot, to keep the teeming masses away from his car.

Claire unwinds Cas’ scarf and stashes it in her backpack before hopping out and slamming the door behind her. “Nah, not much. Gimme a bit more time.”

“Don’t take too long.” Dean slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and locks the car. “All right. Have an awesome day. I’ll see you after school.” He pulls Claire into a one-armed hug and she squeezes against his side for just a moment before huffing and pulling away.

“See ya,” she calls, starting toward the main building while her dad heads over to the gym. “Tell Cas hi from me when you text him at lunch.”

She doesn’t miss the Friends flip-off that Dean sends her, his two fists raised high above his head as he bangs them together. She just laughs and heads to class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire is rummaging through Cas and Jack’s fridge when the kid sneaks up on her.

“Claire, Claire, I want Froot Loops!” He tugs on the hem of her sweater, peeking around from behind her back.

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy if I got you all hopped up on sugar.” She finds the grapes she saw in there yesterday, and pulls them out from the crisper drawer. “We get fruit. Our dads should be back soon to start on dinner.”

Jack nods without complaint, the good kid that he is, and wanders back to the table to find his seat. He watches her expectantly as she washes the fruit.

This is a regular occurrence—Claire watches Jack while Dean and Cas go on their weekly grocery runs (or literally any errand Cas needs to run) that absolutely aren’t dates, according to Dean. At first, when Cas tried to decline, convinced that it would be too big an inconvenience, Dean insisted. “We live next door, you don’t have a car, it only makes sense,” he said. Now that was a conversation to witness. The man was desperate to spend any time he could with his favorite neighbor. Claire snickers at the memory.

She places the small bowl of seedless grapes in front of Jack, who immediately picks one up with careful fingers. Claire gets a kick out of watching the kid eat. He savors every bite like he’s never tasted a grape before, when Claire knows for a fact it was his afterschool snack only three days ago — she gave it to him. She ruffles his hair and goes to put the rest of the fruit back in the fridge.

“You doing anything exciting this weekend?” she asks over her shoulder. There’s a box of suspicious-looking leftover takeout that’s made a home on the back of a shelf. Most likely something Cas forgot about. He gets busy with his work, and aside from the dinners that the two families share, Cas doesn’t cook a lot. Claire pulls it out and tosses it into the garbage, scrunching up her nose at the foul smell that escapes from the paper container.

“Uhm,” Jack mumbles around a grape. He takes his time to chew and swallow his food before speaking (because he’s civilized, unlike Claire’s father). “Daddy and I are gonna bake an apple pie for your birthday!”

Claire suppresses a grin as she pulls out the chair next to Jack. It’s the first she’s heard of it, and she wonders if she’s supposed to know about this birthday pie. “A pie, huh?”

“Yeah! Because it’s Dean’s favorite,” Jack replies brightly without a speck of irony (because the kid is five), and Claire can’t stifle the bark of laughter this time.

Realistically, she knows that Cas must also have feelings for Dean. Otherwise she can’t imagine a grown man being fine with her dad doting over him the way he does. But to bake Dean’s favorite pie for Claire’s birthday? The guy has it bad.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a huge gasp and Claire’s eyes dart up. She’s on high alert, worried that Jack’s choking on a grape or something. Instead, she finds Jack looking back at her, wide-eyed and stricken. He clasps his hands over his mouth

“Oh no! I wasn’t supposed to tell!” Jack looks up at her with what can only be described as the saddest puppy-dog eyes that immediately tug at Claire’s well-guarded heartstrings. “Please don’t tell Daddy?”

She bites back a laugh—Jack is clearly distressed—and shoots him a wink. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Jack flashes a relieved smile and turns back to his grapes. Claire leans her chin on her hand, elbow resting on the table, as she watches him peel one of the grapes with extreme focus. An idea begins to brew.

“So...” she starts carefully. “Does Cas talk about my dad a lot?”

“Yeah! He thinks Dean is very special.” Jack nods, wiping his sticky fingers all over the front of his shirt.

Claire’s elbow slips from the table in surprise. It’s her turn to stare back at the kid, wide-eyed. “He said that?”

Jack tilts his head, an action that reminds Claire so much of his dad, and thinks about it. “Well, I asked him if Dean was his boyfriend, because Jesse’s mom just got a new boyfriend and they’re always together, just like Dean and Daddy. And Daddy said Dean is very special.”

A wave of excitement rushes over Claire as her plan starts to take shape. Oh, this is good. It’s the confirmation she needs to move forward.

“How would you feel if Dean was your dad’s boyfriend?”

Jack looks up from his bowl, his brow furrowed curiously. “What happens if they’re boyfriends? Can we still hang out?”

No one can ever know how much Claire loves this kid.

“Yeah buddy, we might even hang out more.” She nudges Jack gently with her shoulder. “But I also think it would make your dad really happy.” She has a fleeting thought that it might be a little unfair, appealing to a kid’s love for his father. But it’s true.

The change in Jack’s demeanor is immediate.

“I want him to be happy,” he exclaims, all sparkly eyed and eager. He’s all but forgotten the last grape in his bowl. “How can they be boyfriends?”

“I have an idea—” Claire grins at him, picking up his last grape and popping it into her mouth. Jack doesn’t even protest. He watches her with the same intense focus he showed that grape peel and nods along earnestly. “—but it needs to be a secret between us. Try and keep it this time, alright?”

She stands from the chair, ruffling Jack’s hair once again. She picks up the bowl to drop it in the sink, and turns back to Jack.

“Go wash your hands. We’ve got work to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire puts her plan in action the next evening, as she and Dean wind down at the end of the day with an episode of The Great British Baking Show. Claire is slouched low on the sofa, her phone in hand while she absently scrolls Twitter. When she looks over, Dean is mumbling about how David deserves to be Star Baker this week (“He’s consistent, they always overlook the dark horse!”).

“Hey Dad?” she says, straightening up in her seat with an elbow resting on the back of the sofa. “I know what I want to do for my birthday.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean’s distracted, and bolts up when the Star Baker is announced, gesturing wildly at the TV. “Dude, Steph again ? She’s good, but come on!”

Claire glances back at the TV where the wholesome British people are congratulating each other like actual friends. American reality TV would never. She smiles—she likes Steph.

“Dad.” She tries again, tapping at her father’s shoulder.

Dean relaxes back into his seat and turns to face her. “Right, right, sorry. You were telling me what you wanted for your birthday.”

“We haven’t done anything fallish yet this year. I think we should invite Jack and Cas and check out the harvest festival,” she says, hoping it comes across casual as opposed to conniving.

Dean blinks a few times, like he’s trying to process Claire’s words. He narrows his eyes skeptically. “That’s what you want for your birthday? I was preparing myself for you to ask me to buy you a fifth. Or a car.”

The comment prompts one of Claire’s signature eye rolls. “Haha. Very funny. No, I just thought it’d be nice.” She perks up a bit in her seat, the old sofa creaking beneath her. “We can pack a lunch, Jack can pick a pumpkin. You can hang out with Cas and stare into his eyes some more.”

“Claire,” Dean groans, but Claire barrels on.

“I’m just kidding. Calm down. It’s just that without a car, Cas and Jack can’t do all this fall stuff, and Jack’s classmates are bragging to him about all this cool stuff they’re doing.” She dials up the puppy eyes she learned from Jack. It also isn’t a lie; when Claire suggested the festival, Jack’s eyes lit up with excitement. It seems his classmates have all already checked out the races and the rides.

Dean frowns. “Well, that’s bullshit. Yeah, if that’s what you really want, of course we can do that. Maybe we can carve some pumpkins after. Give Jack something to brag about.”

“Cool.” Claire plays it off like it’s no big deal. She slouches back down, sinking into the squeaky leather. “It’s just… he’s like a little brother, you know?” She peers up at him through mascara heavy lashes, and is pleased to see her words seem to have the desired effect.

“Well, if that’s what you want.” There’s a soft fondness in Dean’s eyes as he pulls her into a one-armed hug.

Things are going exactly as planned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire’s birthday falls on a Saturday, perfect for their outing. She checked out the harvest festival’s website last night, making mental notes of the activities that’ll force her dad and Cas into the closest possible quarters. She figures that if they’re gonna do this, they might as well do it right.

Dean asks her over breakfast if she’s sure that she doesn’t want any other friends to come along, and she just shakes her head. “I kinda just want a family day today,” she says, and revels in the flustered little smile that Dean gives his coffee cup.

This is gonna be great.

When Cas and Jack meet them out on the sidewalk after breakfast, it’s clear that Jack upheld one of his ends of the bargain. Cas is dressed like a farmer, plaid shirt over patched jeans and (pretty cool) boots, with a dark jacket draped over his arm, his usual trenchcoat nowhere in sight. The shirt’s a bit small for him, though. Claire side-eyes it until she sees Dean’s jaw literally drop, like in a cartoon. It’d be embarrassing if it weren’t the exact reaction she’d been hoping for.

While Dean stutters out a greeting, she subtly fist-bumps Jack behind Cas’ back. Jack stifles a giggle. He’s wearing some overalls with yellow rain boots and a striped bumblebee jacket, the tassels of his monkey hat swinging onto his shoulders. Claire barely suppresses the urge to squeeze him.

Her dad somehow manages to open the garage and get himself into the car without once looking away from Cas, and Claire hopes he pulls himself together before he actually starts driving. In Dean’s defense, though, Cas isn’t doing much better. Claire recommended oh-so-innocently to Dean that it’d be nice if they dressed up a little bit for her birthday, even if they’re just going to the harvest festival. Dean’s made a pretty good effort with his best green Henley and some dark-wash jeans that Claire picked out for him at one of those perfume-ridden mall stores over the summer. He looks nice, he really does, even with the addition of a lumpy Cas-scarf wrapped around his neck.

Cas obviously thinks so, too, because he keeps touching Dean’s arm when he talks, more so than usual.

Claire grits her teeth and figures she’s gotta get through all the gross stuff to get these two doofuses to where she wants them. For once, she’s on board with the flirting.

Dean buys tickets for all of them (waving off Cas’ offer by saying it’s his kid’s birthday, after all), and Jack immediately drags them over to the games area. The air is heavy with the smell of popcorn, caramel apples, and hay, and Claire takes a deep breath. It’s not exactly how she pictured her seventeenth birthday, but right now she finds she doesn’t want anything else.

They make it to the site of the festival without Dean crashing the car, a small miracle in itself. On the way over, Claire whispered some of her plan to Jack in the backseat while their dads chatted obliviously, and Jack now jumps right into action, throwing himself out of his booster seat the second Claire unbuckles him and dashing toward the entrance.

“I wanna do the three-legged race!” he hollers as the others hurry to catch up. Dean casts one despairing glance at Baby, parked in the muddy lot, before fixing his eyes on Cas again. Claire mentally pumps her fist. If dirt on his car can’t distract him, then things are going swimmingly.

Between her and Jack, they lead their parents through an exhaustive series of “High-Contact Games,” bypassing any stand that doesn’t encourage some sort of touching. Dean and Cas stumble their way through the three-legged race, arms wrapped tight around each other, collapsing in a heap on the field after losing handily to Claire and Jack. They dunk their heads underwater in the partner apple bobbing contest, coming up for air with their noses a centimeter apart, both biting into a big red apple. (This activity has the added benefit of Dean drying Cas’ hair with a fluffy towel, and Cas wrapping Dean’s scarf back around his neck after they’re dry.) They tiptoe their way through the “haunted mansion” and Claire holds Jack’s hand tight so Dean and Cas are left to stumble along through the dark together, jumping whenever a cardboard skeleton pops out of the wall.

By the time they make it through the hayride (Cas and Dean squished together on one bale, Claire and Jack on another), the dads are both glowing, cheeks flushed and hair tousled. They walk close together as they make their way through the festival, heads tipped toward one another as they talk quietly. Claire and Jack exchange a triumphant grin and trail along behind them.

“We’re doing so good,” Claire whispers down to him. “Are you ready for the big finale?”

Jack nods vigorously, nearly smacking himself in the face with his caramel apple. “I practiced in my room last night. I’m ready.”

Claire flashes him a thumbs up and shouts ahead, “Hey you guys! We’re starving. Can we do the picnic now?”

It takes a little while to get back to the Impala, with how busy the festival’s gotten and how slow Dean and Cas are when they refuse to walk without their arms touching, but eventually they make it back to the potholed parking lot and Dean hefts the cooler out of Baby’s trunk. There’s an awkward shuffle as Cas offers to carry it and Dean waves him off, only for Cas to insist, and they end up lugging it between them for the ten-minute walk to the big field next to the festival grounds.

They lay a tarp on the damp grass before putting down the huge pile of blankets that Claire dug out of the hall closet. She and Jack quickly sprawl out across half of the blanket island, leaving a little bit of room for Dean and Cas to settle down with the picnic basket. Cas’ butt ends up on the grass, and instead of moving, Claire suggests “Just put your legs over my dad’s, like I’m doing with Jack” and watches both the men’s eyes flare dramatically before—lo and behold—Cas actually does it, scooting closer to Dean and gingerly laying a leg over his. Dean’s hands shake as he opens the clasp on the picnic basket.

It’s a struggle, but Claire manages to keep her cool despite dying with laughter inside.

“Okay!” Dean says, rubbing his hands together and peering into the basket. “First order of business.” He lifts out a pie, and Claire pretends to look surprised. Her dad hands it to Cas, who holds it out to Claire like an offering.

“I know it’s not a birthday cake, but Jack and I made you an apple pie to celebrate,” he says, voice a bit unsure, as if he expects her to turn her nose up at it. She smiles and takes it.

“Thanks, you guys! It looks amazing.” It really does. Cas may not be the best knitter, but he got the lattice of the pie crust just right. There are a few little indents and divots where Jack obviously took a prod at it. Claire swallows a bit. She can’t get mushy now. There’s a plan.

“You know,” she says, “apple pie’s my dad’s favorite. It’s so sweet of you to think of him.” Dean shoots her a warning look and she answers with a shit-eating grin. Cas smiles sheepishly and digs back into the picnic basket, and Claire prods Jack in the ribs. He’s up.

Jack jumps to his feet, eagerness radiating from every limb as he climbs over Claire’s legs and stands right in front of Dean. He whips out the puppy eyes and Claire silently congratulates the kid.

“Hey Dean?” Jack says in his most angelic voice. He tugs on his hat tassels. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

There’s utter silence on the picnic blanket as Dean stares at Jack, computing. Cas is frozen with one hand in the picnic basket, eyes down but obviously hanging on to every sound that Dean makes (which, right now, is nothing more than some slightly strangled breathing).

“Dean?” Jack asks again, and Dean snaps out of it, shaking his head.

“Um. I— uh. No,” he stammers, lamely, eyes darting over to Cas. “No, no boyfriend. Uh. Why?”

Jack takes a huge breath, and Claire holds hers. “Do you want to be my daddy’s boyfriend?” He says the phrase with all the air of someone who definitely did practice in their bedroom.

“Jack!” Cas’ head snaps up and he stares at his son, mortified. “That’s— that’s not an appropriate thing to say to Dean.”

Jack glances back at Claire, brow furrowed, obviously unsure about this turn of events. Claire quickly scrambles to her knees and pats Jack’s shoulder. She looks her dad right in the eyes.

“Listen. Dad. And Cas. Jack and I love you very much. But we are—okay, fine, I am—tired of watching your truly horrific cringe-inducing old people flirting every. damn. day. The best birthday gift you can give me is to get your heads out of your asses and just get together already.”

And with that, she stands up, pie in one hand, slinging her other arm around Jack’s shoulders. “I’m gonna take my pie and Jack and go pick some pumpkins. Give you guys some time. Text me later!”

She doesn't stick around long enough for either of them to reply (not that either of them seem capable of forming many words, judging by the shell-shocked expressions on their faces). She tugs Jack off the blanket and they start making their way across the grass.

As they walk, Jack looks up at her with curious eyes. “Did it work? Are they boyfriends now?”

Claire glances back over her shoulder and sees the two men just staring at each other. They’ve been close all day (Claire mutters a mental you’re welcome), but she recognizes the new nerves in their posture. Legs still gently touching even with the additional space, their heads tilted ever-so-slightly in toward each other. Right on the precipice of something new.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it worked.” She grins down at Jack, triumphant. “You know, I’ve always wanted a little brother.”

There’s a short pause while Jack tries to process this new information. It may be early, but Claire has a good feeling about this. She knows Jack’s connected the dots when he lets out an enthusiastic squeal and hugs her tightly around her hips. She laughs and pats him on the back.

Jack pulls away and also looks back at Dean and Cas, who are now both sporting embarrassingly gushy smiles, practically holding hands on the picnic blanket. God, they’re nauseating. Claire turns her attention back to the kid beside her when she feels Jack take her hand. He has a knowing glint in his eyes, suddenly looking so much older than his five years. He peers up at her, beaming, his wide grin showing off his still-missing teeth.

“You’re right, Claire. They do look happy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many birthdays (and now, to Claire's dismay, corny anniversaries) later, she and Jack still share the same knowing smiles.

#suptober21 #claire pov #teenage claire is so done watching old men flirt #jack just wants everyone to be happy #dean and cas are in love but also chickens #it's intervention time baby #enjoy the fluff #this is really all fluff #destiel fic #claire novak #jack kline #dean winchester #castiel #destiel

[onciewritesstuff]

He never thought he’d get to have this.

If anyone had told seventeen year old Dean Winchester that one day he would have a home, two kids and a husband he would’ve thought they were crazy. He never would’ve believed it.

Hell, sometimes Dean still doesn’t believe it, even though every morning he wakes up with Cas. Every day he receives a few texts from Claire -an ‘I’m still alive don’t worry about me’ text usually followed by a few memes that Dean only sometimes has to pretend to understand- and he’ll give her the daily updates before sliding out of bed to go retrieve Jack from his crib. With Jack tucked in his arm he’ll head downstairs and turn on the coffee maker until the smell of freshly brewed coffee rouses his husband and draws him out of their bed.

But today, Dean hesitates. Dean lingers, forest green eyes slowly roving over every detail of his husbands face. The small wrinkle in his nose from where his face is pressed into the pillow, the way his lips are parted ever so slightly, soft snores filling the air between them.

Dean can’t fight his smile, affection surging within him so fiercely it’s nearly overwhelming. Once upon a time he’d been scared of those feelings and tried to hide from them -and sometimes it’s still a struggle for him to express them- but every day it gets easier.

Slowly Dean reaches out with his right hand, fingertips sliding featherlight along Cas’ skin as Dean cups his cheek. His thumb brushes over pink lips, and Cas mumbles softly before burrowing deeper into his pillow with a contented hum. Huffing a soft laugh to himself Dean slides his hand up and into Cas’ hair, carding lightly through the thick tangled mess.

Cas peeks an eye open, brilliant blue meeting green, and not for the first time Dean’s breath is taken away. Despite the new angle hiding Cas’ lips Dean can see the corner of his smile.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Dean whispers, voice absolutely dripping with affection, and Cas’ eyes seem to shine brighter.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He croaks, voice sleep rough. Dean’s cheeks prickle with heat -at this point he’s pretty sure that’ll never stop- and he ducks his head slightly.

Cas shifts then, pushing himself out of the pillow to prop himself up on his elbows, smiling down at his husband. Dean’s chest tightens. What had he ever done to deserve his best friend to smile at him like he hung the moon and stars. He knows the answer, though, can hear it clear as day in Cas’ voice. He’d loved.

“I love you.” He says, softly, almost reverently. Cas’ expression shifts ever so slightly, softening the way it does every time Dean says he loves him. Before he can reply Dean is pushing himself up onto his elbows so he can capture soft pink lips in a kiss.

“I love you too.” Cas murmurs back, voice striking Dean to the very core. He rolls, pushing Dean back into the plush pillows on their bed so he can straddle his lap.

Dean laughs softly and catches the edge of the comforter, dragging it up and back over Cas’ shoulders so it hangs over them like a tent, just the two of them wrapped up in each other.

Dean’s phone buzzes on his nightstand -no doubt the check in text from Claire- but for now he pays it no mind, content to rest his hands on his husbands strong thighs and gaze up at him with all of the love and adoration and devotion he’d worked so hard to hide for the first twelve years they’d known each other.

“I love you.” He says again, thumbs rubbing gently back and forth across tanned skin, and Cas’ expression is so lovestruck that Dean aches with it.

“I love you too.” Cas murmurs, his own hands planted lightly upon Dean’s ribs. “Not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?”

Dean snorts a soft laugh. He guesses that’s a fair question. Swallowing down the nerves that flare at the idea of sharing his thoughts he moves his left hand to grab Cas’ right, lifting it to press a kiss to his husbands palm.

“Sometimes it just really hits me how lucky I am to have you.” He says against calloused skin. Cas leans down, stealing his lips in another kiss.

“And I, you.” He says between soft presses of lips.

“Daddy?” Jack calls from his room down the hall, and Cas laughs against Dean’s lips. Dean follows him when he sits up, peppering soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw.

“Duty calls.” He finally says, and Cas reluctantly shifts off of his lap. He flops back across the bed and sighs.

“You could just bring Jack and the coffee in here and we could have a lazy morning... watch some tv.” Cas says as Dean climbs off the bed. His husband grins and stoops, pressing a clumsy upside down kiss to waiting lips.

“We’ll be right back.”

He heads down the hall and Cas smile only widens.

“Good morning, buddy.” Dean’s voice carries down the hall, followed instantly by Jack’s eager reply.

“G’mornin daddy.”

Cas bites his lip in an attempt to control his grin, unintentionally catching Dean’s eye when he passes their door on his way to the stairs. Green eyes soften, and Cas knows his own expression is just as fond.

“Five minutes.” Dean says before stepping out of sight.

As he descends the stairs, Jack happily babbling away, Dean presses a kiss to the toddlers head. He’s so fucking lucky.

#destiel #DeanCas #DeanCas fic #Destiel fic #fluff #toddler Jack

[hen-of-letters]

@spnprideweek day one: flags

This little ficlet for #spnprideweek is brought to you by my big, non-binary bisexual love for this beautiful fandom, and my desire to fix that moment in 'Baby' when Cas indulges Dean by saying "werepire", but Dean doesn't hear him and Cas doesn't know. It ended up getting a bit long, so there's more under the cut or over on AO3. Thanks!

Dean's at Pride, and feeling a rising level of discomfort.

It's not the fact that he's wearing eyeliner in public for the first time in his forty-two years. Hell, he'd been wanting to do that ever since he was a kid, dreaming of being a rock star. The covers of music magazines in gas station racks had been windows on a world free from the brutally narrow definition of what his Dad meant when he told him to "be a man". Gradually, though, he'd learned what is gloriously apparent today under the hot June sun: that there are as many ways of being a man as there are men.

It's not because the sleeveless white t-shirt he's wearing is somewhat snug. (The heat had made him shed his pink, purple and blue plaid shirt - the one he'd worn today because Claire always called it his 'bi flannel' - and tie it around his waist.) He and Cas are both wearing a little of their contentment on their waistlines these days, and he believes Cas when he says that he adores his body because he means it when he says the same to Cas.

It's not the big, heart-shaped sticker slapped on his chest, which is striped in the colours of the bisexual pride flag in a way that's much less subtle than the flannel. Dean's always known that he wasn't only into chicks, but putting a name to it is new. Dean's had jobs and Dean's had roles, but having an identity had always seemed like a luxury well beyond Dean's means. Now he's not constantly running for his life, though, he has the breathing room to figure himself out. And he's good with this part of himself. More than good.

It's not the two flags that are padding the pockets of his jeans. One, he'd bought for Cas: it's striped in pale pink, pale blue and white. Earlier, he'd gone with Cas when he'd met up with some friends he'd met online (having managed to get past all the cats this time). The ex-angel had found that discussing their experiences of being trans had helped him feel happy in the body that had become his own. Dean could only feel immense gratitude for the way Cas' face had lit up afterwards when he'd talked about how he was creating himself, becoming himself, and embracing the human condition of change.

Dean hopes that the gift of the trans pride flag will show Cas that Dean understands and loves him, and the same is true for the other flag, which he'd picked up for Jack. It's yellow, white, purple and black. Dean had had to do a little research when Jack had used the term non-binary - it's amazing how the world can move on while you're living in an underground bunker. He'd kept on researching, too, after he'd learned the basics. Maybe he was still figuring himself out. Maybe there was more to discover about himself, and wasn't that fantastic?

Jack is wandering around somewhere with Claire and Kaia. Jody and Donna are here, too, with Alex and Patience. Adam and Michael have probably partied their way through fifty international pride parades by now, but they should be meeting up with everyone else later. Sam and Eileen are not far away. Eileen was the one who's slapped the bi pride sticker on Dean's chest - with unnecessary force, if you asked Dean. She'd grinned at him, showed off the identical sticker on her own chest, and said, with a suitably cheesy wink, "we need to stick together". He remembered the moment he'd nervously asked her the sign for 'bisexual', and when she'd shown him - the letter signs for 'b' and 'i' - she'd added, "me too," and Dean had scooped her up into a crushing hug.His love for his family is endless, and them all being here is definitely not why he's uncomfortable.

And it's not the body glitter freckling his cheeks and his shoulders with gold, although his feelings might change by the time he tries to remove it tonight. He'd been gilded with it when he'd been dancing up a storm with a group of drag queens. They'd admired his eyeliner - a deep brown shot through with gold along his upper lashes - but winked and said it was "a little subtle for Pride". As soon as Dean had seen the tube of glitter, he'd yelled "hell yes!" and even managed to hold still long enough to be coated in the stuff before moving his body to the beat again. Although he's sure his feet will be aching later, so far his favourite cowboy boots are not the source of his discomfort.

It's not the bright pink feather boa, either, which he'd acquired from the same source as the glitter, when he'd been sent off with a kiss to the cheek and the words "be bold, honey!" He'd expected the boa to tickle or irritate, but for some bizarre reason the sensation of feathers around his shoulders and the back of his neck feels incredibly comforting and reassuring. He feels warm and safe and oh. Oh.

As that particular realisation sweeps over him, Dean tightens his hold on Cas. He's standing behind him with his right hand on Cas' hip, and his left arm is up over his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. His hand is splayed out, at once putting his silver wedding band on display and somehow attempting to conceal Cas from the eyes of his many admirers (and, well, good luck with that. Cas is incredibly beefy these days).

Which brings us to the source of Dean's discomfort; to the thing that's deepening the furrow in his brow and the dimples beside his pursed lips: namely, the sheer number of guys hitting on Cas.

It's not like Dean can blame them. Cas' muscular frame is wrapped in black jeans and a tight black t-shirt bearing the Led Zeppelin 1975 tour logo. The short sleeves show off the floral tattoos trailing down his left arm. Cas is wearing a rainbow-coloured enamel belt buckle and, because he's determined to be the death of Dean, black cowboy boots. Before they'd left, Dean hadn't been able to resist grabbing a black kohl pencil and smudging a little along Cas' upper and lower lashes. And, okay, maybe Cas' wide-eyed bewilderment every time he's flirted with is vaguely amusing. But when Dean is right here? Not cool.

Right on cue, here's another one. From over his husband's shoulder, Dean levels his very best glare at the guy. It's a look that can stop a demon dead in its tracks. A vampire would tremble. A werewolf would wet itself. But one young gay guy with a few drinks in him? Totally unaffected. Like the others, he's all smiles and understanding when Cas politely, if awkwardly, waves him away. (Literally. With a final dorky little wave goodbye.)

Dean realises that he's moved his right arm around Cas' waist, so now Dean is wrapped around Cas like some kind of koala/octopus hybrid. An octoala? A koctopus? Definitely koctopus. Heh.

Dean snorts at the thought, which is somewhat unfortunate, given that his face is right next to Cas' ear. Cas flinches and turns his head around to fix him in a squinty glare.

"Koctopus?" Dean says, apologetically.

Cas narrows his eyes further and tilts his head to the side.

"Um, the way I was wrapped around you. I was like a cross between a koala and an octopus."

Dean nudges Cas. "So what does that make me? C'mon, you know you wanna say it."

Cas just tilts his head a bit further to the side, either in confusion or outright despair. Dean has untangled himself from Cas and stepped back, and looks down at the ground, suddenly self-conscious.

Dean feels Cas' hand on his shoulder, and then it smooths over his back, finding the back of his neck underneath the boa. Whatever his shape, Cas' touch has the exact same effect on Dean. He looks up into the impossibly blue eyes of his husband.

"You're a very glittery," Cas begins, softly, "and very beautiful," one corner of his mouth lifts, and then he purses his lips together, trying to hold back the smile, "koctopus."

The corners of his eyes are crinkled. He's not amused by the joke, Dean knows, just absurdly pleased to be saying something he knows will make Dean happy. Of course Dean knows that Cas loves him, knows the whole cosmic-realm-crossing magnitude of it, but in little moments like this, he's floored by it. Dean can't help his sudden exhale or the massive grin that breaks across his face. He wraps his husband up in hug that they hold for a good long moment, before Dean leans back to kiss Cas.

No one had ever explained to Dean how difficult it is to kiss someone when you can't stop smiling. He'd never had that problem before Cas, but now it's practically a daily occurrence. It's a menace because kissing Cas is one of Dean's favourite pastimes. Now, they trade little pecks between wide, toothy grins, until passion takes over and the kisses become heavier.

It takes someone wolf-whistling for them to part, and then they're back to grinning and staring into each others' eyes, until Dean spots something on Cas' face. And something else. And something else. In fact, there's something all over Cas, and that something is gold glitter. It's on his face, his hands, his Zeppelin shirt, and even in his hair. Dean runs his fingers through the unruly curls - Cas has been wearing his hair longer lately - in an attempt to shake it out, but only deposits more glitter into Cas' locks.

"Oops," Dean says, "I kinda glitter bombed you there. It's all over your shirt, too. Sorry, Sunshine."

He doesn't sound terribly sorry.

"This is your shirt, Dean."

"Aw, man."

He does sound a little sorry now, but his future laundry woes are forgotten when Cas presses another kiss to his pouting lips. They're forgotten again when something across the crowd catches Dean's eye.

"Oooh," Dean exclaims as he drags Cas towards the stall he's spotted.

It's selling cowboy hats in every configuration of colour imaginable, and Dean is practically jumping on the spot excitement. Cas looks his husband up and down, slowly.

"You think your outfit's lacking accessories?" he deadpans.

"Yup," is Dean's gleeful reply, "and so's yours."

Cas' groan is lost to the noise of the crowd and the beat of the music, so no-one will ever know if it was one of protest or defeat. He does, in fact, end up wearing a black cowboy hat with a rainbow band, so if it was protest then it was highly ineffective. Dean's has a pink crown, purple band and blue brim, and he's carrying another black one with a band in the non-binary flag colours for Jack. Cas admits that Jack's going to love it.

"Damn, this is awesome," Dean says as they head back to meet up with the rest of their family.

Walking hand in hand with Cas, Dean's thoughts wander. Dean could kick his younger self for every time he'd called someone gay or a girl as a way of saying they were weak. Because all he can see in the people around him is strength. He grins again, giddy with the atmosphere of defiant joy. All around him is everything he'd spent his life fighting to protect: freedom, family, and love. Holding his husband's hand a little tighter, he's grateful that in the end he gets to have both: freedom and peace.

#sorry to be late posting this - I was poorly but then I'm also naturally blessed with the writing speed of a sloth #thank you so much for hosting this event #spnprideweek #spn #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #dean is bi #trans castiel #non-binary Jack Kline #my fic #happy pride 🌈

[captcas]

Trucks, Tenders, and Tying the Knot

Claire plays wingwomen for Uncle Cas while watching the trucks. Prompt from this tweet. read on ao3

Castiel is already planning the next six days in bed from a god awful migraine as the loud whir of what might be a front loader clashes with the sound of a jack hammer.

But Claire loves trucks.

And Castiel has the hardest time saying no to his six-year old niece so obviously— despite it being 90 degrees in the shade and the obnoxious amount of noise— they’re sitting outside watching a construction site.

Cas wishes he could say it wasn’t his best (only) option for his Saturday night. But, when Meg begged him for a night off, he didn’t even hesitate. He owes his adopted sister more than he’d care to admit and Claire really is one of his favorite humans.

So, again, they’re watching the trucks.

Pointing curiously at all the different types of trucks, Claire asks Cas to name them off, but Cas truly couldn’t guess the different names for these things if his life depended on it. At first he tried Googling the answers, but Claire’s patience waned so he started just making them up instead.

It’ll only be a problem for him once his adoptive-sister is fielding phone calls from kindergarten when Claire calls an Excavator a “Whoozitkabob”.

It’ll be very hard for Cas not to laugh.

After a while of watching the free (loud) show, Cas realizes it really is 90 degrees and they should probably be keeping hydrated.

This is why Castiel isn’t a parent.

They walk out of the nearby Starbucks a few minutes later, Cas with an iced coffee and Claire with her Vanilla Bean Frappuccino which Cas had to convince her was just a milkshake with a fancy name . He glances down at his niece who is now enthusiastically guzzling the beverage down as though she wasn’t almost in tears about it minutes prior.

Kids, man.

As they reapproach the construction site and their front row seats, Claire stops walking and Cas almost trips trying to stop with the same abruptness.

“Phewwww, I don’t know what he’s fixing but mines broken.” Cas chokes on his coffee before following her gaze to the man in question.

Damn.

“Claire— where did— nevermind—“ Cas knows where Claire heard that, his sister never being subtle with her sexual innuendos despite the impressionable nature of her kid. The most impressive part is Claire is… not wrong.

Flustered by the comment and whether he should tell her objectifying men is not a good look but also by his extreme want to objectify the same man that made Claire stop in her tracks, Castiel just stands there.

And then he stares.

Because damn.

He thinks Leonardo Da Vinci may have been a time traveler because when he described the perfect man he must have been talking about this man. Strong arms, broad chest, bow legs, sandy hair, a smile to power the Chrysler Building, freckles for day, and the greenest eyes Castiel has ever seen even from this far away. He’s dressed a little nicer than most of the workers so Castiel reasons that he must be the contractor or project lead but holy shit can he wear a flannel and jeans.

Tight jeans.

Maybe they can watch the trucks for a bit longer.

Before Castiel can realize what’s happening, Claire is pulling him in the direction of said man. As much as he knows he shouldn’t let a six-year-old wander toward an active construction site he also knows he would never have the guts to approach the man otherwise. He does a quick sweep to make sure there aren’t any Thingamahoozies around and that there’s a fence and decides they’re probably fine walking closer.

As long as his heart doesn’t beat straight out of his chest.

“Hey, Mister. Whatcha fixing?” Claire is yelling as she runs toward the guy who at first looks a little taken aback by the precocious child hurtling towards him but then he notices Cas and breaks into a wide smile that practically knocks Castiel onto the ground.

He reminds himself that the contractor is just happy this kid is supervised and that he is entirely imagining the way the man’s jaw slacked at the sight of Castiel.

Now that he’s drawn to them, Castiel knows he’ll be picturing those lips every time he closes his eyes for the foreseeable future.

The man is laughing and shaking Claire’s hand through the chain-link fence and Castiel realizes he’s staring again. He approaches the two of them, and apparently they’re fast friends, because Claire introduces him, “Oh, there you are. This is Dean!”

Dean .

Cas smiles what he hopes is a normal smile because he feels like he’s lost all control of himself being in this man– Dean’s presence. Somehow his brain tells him to reach out his hand and before he knows it, their fingers are intertwined and he’s speaking, “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

Then he stares some more but maybe Dean doesn’t mind because he’s staring right back and it’s giving Castiel all the time in the world to study every fleck of gold etched into the summer green of this man’s eyes. In no time at all he moves onto the constellation of freckles that are patterning his cheeks which, if Castiel isn’t mistaken, are starting to red in a blush that may be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen– Claire aside.

Oh yeah, Claire.

Castiel reluctantly lets go of the man’s hand when Claire snaps them out of their trance, “We need you to fix whatever we’ve got broken.”

Oh, fantastic, now he’s mortified.

But Dean doesn’t bat an eye, in fact he throws his head back in laughter and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Castiel’s ears and he swears if he could he would spend a lifetime trying to hear that laugh everyday.

Dean glances at Castiel’s left hand– not subtle at all – and then looks towards Claire fondly, “Is that what your dad said?” Castiel doesn’t have time to focus on the fact Dean thinks Claire is his because if he thought his mind was reeling from Dean’s check of his marital status then it’s absolutely worthless when the man looks back towards him and winks.

Carve up his tombstone because Castiel is a goner.

Claire, apparently completely unaware of the absolute stupor she’s put her uncle in, continues chatting, “Oh, he’s not my dad, that’s my uncle, Cas.”

“Cas.” Dean looks like he’s mulling the nickname over like an award winning wine and then he smiles. “Well, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you and your uncle Cas.”

Claire beams before gasping loudly, “OH MY GOD, UNCLE CAS! IT’S A ZINGAMAHOOEY!”

Send that tombstone via express mail because Castiel just died of embarrassment.

Dean’s face screws into something too cute to be legal and he shoots a glance at Castiel, clearly looking for an explanation. Somehow Castiel finds words, “She kept asking what they were called and I’m clueless.”

Cas could swear Dean’s eyes twinkle before speaking again, “Well maybe I could teach you… uh… over dinner?”

“Oh yes please! I love chicken tenders!” Claire, apparently paying attention again, chimes in.

Cas is about to object but then Dean laughs again and says, “Of course! I know the best spot for chicken tenders.”

With Claire satisfied and looking again at the construction site, Dean looks back toward Cas with nervousness etched across his face, “Is— uh— I mean— if you want to..”

He can’t help but enthusiastically put the man out of his misery, “I’d love to.”

And they do.

A week later they’re munching on burgers and chicken tenders listening to Dean talk about all the different kinds of trucks and Claire try and tell him he’s wrong because Uncle Cas said.

And if Cas thought the night couldn’t have possibly gotten better, Dean drops off Claire first and walks him to the door and kisses him goodbye with the promise of another dinner— just them two.

Dean keeps his promise and a million promises... including the biggest promise of their lives with the tiniest Maid of Honor by their side.

#destiel #destiel oneshot #deancas #supernatural #destiel ff #captcas

[crowleys-bastard-angel]

To expand on what I said in the last post, where I mentioned how I hate the Supernatural Fandom with a passion, here are some of the main reasons why:

Their belief that you can't criticize any character in the show who is any sort of minority or who has any sort of trauma, and if you do then you're a prejudiced asshole who only hates them because they're a minority/have trauma and who hates minorities/people with trauma

All of the "If you hate Mary Winchester/Claire Novak/Charlie Bradbury/Any Other Female Hunter Character at all, then you just hate women/are sexist/hate strong female characters" posts

The abuse apologism(especially relating to Dean and his relationships with everyone, but especially especially Sam, Cas, and Jack)

The constant glorification, romanticization, justification, woobification, and excusing of Dean and everything that Dean says or does

The constant glorification, romanticization, justification, woobification, normalization, and excusing of Hunters as a whole and Hunting as a concept/institution

The constant glorification of Hunter Characters like Claire, Charlie, Jody, Mary, and Eileen, pretty much just for being reoccurring characters who are minorities, and acting like they're never done anything wrong ever, and saying that anyone who criticizes them for anything is just sexist/homophobic/ableist/misogynistic/racist/etc.

The demonization and dehumanization of supernaturals as a whole and the treatment of supernatural characters in fanfics, especially in regards to making them all be either Species-Traitor Hunters who mercilessly kill their own kind and are praised for it or Irredeemably Evil Villains who are nearly always killed off

The way all of the rps/fanfics/fanart/posts/etc. force SamnDean, Cas, Jack, and a bunch of characters who either barely know them or outright hate them into being their "Adorable Perfect Found Family Who All Live Together In The Bunker"

How they act like all of the unhealthy, toxic, and even outright abusive relationships in the show are "adorable" and "perfect" and "healthy" and whatever, just because the characters in the relationship in question are Main Characters/Popular Characters/Hunter Characters

The way that so many of the destiel shippers treat Cas like just an accessory for their ship and Dean's Walking Angelic S*x Toy/Love-Slave and get upset and act like he “betrays” Dean if he so much as cares about anyone besides Dean(and maybe Jack)

The way that the destihellers harass and bully people who don’t like Dean and/or who don’t ship Destiel, and call anyone who doesn’t ship their toxic ship “homophobic”, even when the person being accused of being homophobic ships other non-straight ships

All of the dad!Dean crap, and how they make Dean be Claire/Jack/whoever’s father, and how they make Claire, Jack, and other Kid/Young Adult Characters into Destiel Children

The way people get so up in arms and defensive if you criticize their favorite character for legit reasons(mostly Dean), and then will sometimes turn around and make up/exaggerate shit in order to to hate on/bash other people’s favorite characters(mostly Sam and/or Cas)

How some of the most popular ships in the fandom, the ones with the most posts and works about them, are among the most toxic, abusive, and disgusting ships in the fandom(eg. Destiel, Wincest, Samifer, etc.)

How the Wincestie and Bibro types like to bash my favorite characters(eg. Cas and Jack) and treat them like shit, and act like only SamnDean matter

How some SamnDean/Bibro/Wincest fans act like Sam and Dean are perfect, and are all annoyingly snooty with their superiority complexes about how “they understand the show and it’s all about brotherly love” and stuff like that, and bash and insult Cas in literally all of their posts and etc.  They will do things like, call Cas insulting and degrading names, and bash him for stuff that is either made up, exaggerated, or that is literally the same as or similar-to-but-not-as-bad-as things that SamnDean have done.

How they make long-ass metas and essays about destiel and homophobia in spn and shit, but refuse to acknowledge almost any of the racism, sexism, ableism, etc. in the show

How said metas and essays about "homophobia in spn" are literally almost entirely just about “Destiel not being canon” and “Charlie's death”, and occasionally “Cas' death”(but only in the Bury Your Gays and "Cas died and didn't get to be with his twu wuv after confessing his feelings!  Waaaahhh! ThEy SiLeNcEd Us!" way, of course, and no mention of how he died spewing bullshit about how "good" and "loving" his abuser was), and completely ignore any of the many other homophobic things in SPN that don't revolve around the Hunter Fan-Faves.

The rampant and disgusting hypocrisy, both with Hunters vs Supernaturals and with Dean vs Anyone Else.  

An example regarding Hunters, is how they will say that killing any human, even one who is an abuser or a murderer, is “bad” and “evil” and “villainous”, but killing any supernatural, even an innocent one, is “ok” and “good” and “heroic”.  

An example regarding Dean, is how they will say that anything bad Dean did while he had the MOC “wasn’t really Dean” and “you can’t judge him for that”, but then will go on to judge, condemn, and bash Sam and Cas for things they did while they were possessed(Both), soulless(Sam), or had hundreds of monster and leviathan souls inside them(Cas)! 

and likely more things that I'm forgetting

#spn wank #spn fandom wank #anti spn fandom #anti spn stans #anti dean stans #anti destiel stans #anti destihellers #anti wincesties #anti bibros #anti spn shippers #anti hunter stans #dean/destiel stans and hunter stans are hypocrites #anti spn #anti supernatural #anti dean winchester #dean critical #dean is not jack's dad #dean is not claire's dad #dean is not ANYONE'S dad #anti hunters #anti hunting #hunter critical #hunting critical #spn #supernatural

[dressupheart]

“dean, look!” jack was grinning as he held out the flyer he picked up. “ninety-nine cent shrimp!”

“kid, you don’t wanna eat that,” dean sighed, “unless you plan on spending the night puking your guts up.” he pointed out a coffee shop near the hotel elevator, on the edge of the casino floor. “that place has good pie.”

eileen took sam’s hand, leading him to the slot machines, while cas looked at the coffee shop’s menu. dean couldn’t help but smile. a year ago, they were battling chuck, and cas confessed his feelings before the empty took him. since then, rowena helped dean find a spell to free cas. jack had given the bulk of his power to amara, so he could go back home to his family.

his gaze moved to cas, who was now reading something on his phone. getting him back made dean realize he couldn’t waste time, as it was a precious commodity. telling cas how he felt was difficult, but cas was so patient and encouraging.

and now, eleven months after his own confession, dean was in a las vegas casino, celebrating with his family. he walked over to where cas was standing, and he gave jack a few dollars to get a soda. he had to act fast, before he lost his nerve.

cas must have noticed, he put his phone back in his pocket and looked at dean with that adorable squint. “dean?”

“so, uh…what do you wanna do?” dean swallowed hard, and stuck his hand in his pants pocket. “lots to see, y’know.”

“i’m not sure. eileen said something about a day spa, it might be relaxing. jack wants to go shopping, he promised to bring claire a souvenir. is there anything you want to do?”

“yeah, um…yeah. we can do that, but, uh, i was thinking about tonight. we could check out the steak place on the top floor, go and get married, then walk around or something.” dean rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke.

cas stared at him. “could you repeat that?”

dean looked up, meeting cas’ gaze. “i wanna get married. tonight. it’s gotta be tonight.”

“dean…” cas’ voice was lower than usual, “why tonight?”

“a year ago today, you told me you loved me and you got sent to the empty. i thought i lost you forever. you know i’m not great with all the feelings crap, but i don’t wanna waste any more time. you’re it for me.” dean’s voice cracked at the end, and cas moved closer so he could wrap his arms around dean.

“nothing would make me happier,” cas whispered in dean’s ear, “of course i’ll marry you.”

“ah fuck, i’m cryin’ in a casino.”

sam must have noticed the hug, because he came running over with eileen close behind. “dude, is everything okay?”

“everything is wonderful, sam,” cas laughed with tears running down his cheeks.

“so, sammy,” dean wiped his own tears on his sleeve, “y’feel like being my best man tonight?”

——————

happy november 5th y’all 💜

#spn #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #bean writes things #supernatural