#bashing john winchester

[ivoirloup]

Writing a crossover SPN/TeenWolf were Stiles is Dean son is also seen Dean becoming what John never was.

I'm having fun.

[stay-pos-cos]

I think that the Supernatural fandom doesn't give Dean Winchester enough credit or hold John Winchester accountable nearly enough. I would argue that John's abuse (mental, emotional and physical) and its constant effect in both boys lives is constantly downplayed by a majority of the fanbase.

The parentification of an elder sibling has been proven to cause lasting issues and we see this throughout the show; when Dean is overly protective of Sam, treats Sam's life as more valuable than his own, can't picture a life where he's not needed, and his dismissal of Sam as a valuable contributor in an equal partnership. Dean is often criticized both in canon and by fans for being overbearing and codependent on Sam. This is a direct result of John Winchester's inability to parent.

Dean's emotional repression is shown to be caused by his father's militant behaviors and approach to parenting. Dean doesn't see his feelings as valid or important and thus turns to repression or unhealthy coping mechanisms as illustrated throughout the show. His alcoholism, violent outbursts, and unhealthy relationship with sex are all coping mechanisms he uses not to feel.

Through flashbacks (and some dialog) the viewer is show that Sam is more resentful towards John than Dean, and that he even holds resentment towards Dean for being the "perfect little soldier".

That's part of the reason Castiel is such a great foil for Dean, both are loyal to absent fathers' but while Dean was born with free will he follows his father's orders unwaveringly until sometime after his death, Cass a being created without free will breaks free of the command of his father and from his father's mission, becoming for all intents and purposes a Prodigal son like Sam.

Dean's adherence to his father's word is, much like Sam's rebellion a response to continued and repeated abuse, neither brother is perfect. And their father was the furthest thing from it.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

heyyy i have a silly little idea!

What if male!reader was the oldest Winchester brother and was dating Aaron Hotchner? idk just a silly little idea i had, Love your writing and make sure to drink lots of water!

Okay so I kind of took this and ran with it, I hope you don't mind aha

Also, reader's like 14 years older than Dean, so in my head he's John's kid from another relationship and is 7 years old when John and Mary get married (based on this timeline I found).

(I might come back to this and do another part at some point aha)

Warnings: John bashing, homophobia mentions

"Hey, you guys want to meet a friend of mine?" You asked, looking at your brothers. Sam nodded, Dean merely shrugged.

"Sure, whatever," He mumbled as he stood up. You held back a sigh, trying to remind yourself that he was just going through a rough patch at the minute. Normally, he took moving from place to place in his stride, but he was struggling this time. You couldn't help but think that perhaps he had connected with someone in Mississippi during the month and a half you were all there. Besides, he was only ten, so it was bound to affect him a lot - despite how much he pretends it doesn't.

Now, you had been in Virginia for the last three months (apparently it was riddled with monsters). You met him your first day here, he had asked for your number with a charm that made your knees weak - so you gave it to him. Despite the charges for texting, you did so every day.

Sam turned to you, "Are they a special friend, (Y/N)?" He asks quietly, unsure if you're going to be offended by the question.

"Yeah, he is Sammy,"

Sam grinned, "Like a special, special friend?"

You huffed a quiet laugh, "Yeah, kid, a special special friend,"

Sam nodded, satisfied with your answer.

"How old is he exactly?" Dean asked as he folded his arms.

"He's 28,"

"28?!" Dean's eyes widen, "Dude, he's so much older than you!"

"It's four years Dean, chill." You rolled your eyes slightly.

"I think it's cool," Sam chimed as he walked up to the pair of you.

"Thank you, Sam." You said, "But we need to keep this between us, okay? Dad can't find out, alright?"

"Why?" Sam asked, looking up at you. You sighed, crouching down to his height. He was only six, he didn't quite know everything that you guys did just yet. Or at least understand it to a full extent. He also didn't understand your dad's... beliefs, let's say, to a full extent either.

"Dad, he... he won't agree with it," You explained gently.

"Why?" Sam asked again.

"He's homofonic." Dean said confidently.

"Homophobic," You correctly gently.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, it's when someone doesn't like that a man and a man or a woman and a woman get together,"

"Like boyfriend and boyfriend?" Sam asked and you nodded, "That's allowed? I thought it was only boyfriends and girlfriends allowed,"

"Well, it was illegal for a long time," You explained, "But it's getting better,"

"Are you allowed to get married to another boy now?"

"Only in a few states," You said.

"Is that why you don't really tell people?"

"Yeah, that's why I don't tell people," You said, "That's why I haven't told dad,"

"Okay," Sam nodded, excepting this once more, "Is your special special friend your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, yeah he is," You said, smiling softly, Sam beamed up at you.

"Really?!"

You nodded, "Yep,"

"That's so cool am I gonna have another big brother?!"

You chuckled softly, ruffling his hair, "Maybe, Sammy, you'll have to ask him,"

"What's his name?"

"Aaron,"

"What's his job?"

"He works for the FBI," You said after a moment's hesitation.

"Are you serious?"

"Dean, I don't wanna hear it,"

"But he's a fed, (Y/N)!" Dean exclaims, following you through the motel hall.

"And?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" Dean shakes his head, "Dad'll go mental if he finds out."

"Exactly. If." There's a beat, "Besides, I'm a grown ass man, Dean."

"He's not gonna be happy when he finds out about this." He huffs, folding his arms.

"He's not going to find out about this, you hear me?" You said, "I already told you, no one tells dad, do I make myself clear?"

"Who died and made you king?" Dean snaps.

"Dean, I don't wanna fucking hear it, okay?" You reply, "I'm an adult. You're a kid. Now, get in the car,"

"I don't understand why dad gave you the impala." Dean huffed as he sat in the front seat.

"How about this, when you're old enough to drive, you can drive it and I'll let you have it, yeah?"

"Really?!" You watch as Dean's face light up and you nod.

"Yeah," You smiled slightly, "Now, come on, let's go."

Sam looked at you and gave a small shrug before getting in the car.

It was a short drive to Aaron's apartment, Sam had asked questions the entire way about Aaron and your relationship (ever the curious mind), Dean had pretended not to care (but secretly did). And, soon enough, you parked the Impala and all piled out.

Aaron, as promised, met you outside, smiling. "Hey," He stepped closer to you but made no move to kiss you.

You smiled back, "Hey." Dean coughed loudly, "Oh, right, this is Sam and this is Dean."

Aaron turns to them, "I've heard a lot about you two, you're brother's very proud of you."

"Really?" Sam grinned.

"Of course kid," You ruffled his hair. "Come on, let's go inside."

When you were all inside, Aaron shut the door gently before kissing your cheek. "I missed you,"

"It's been a whole two days,"

"Two days too many," He said softly, Dean cleared his throat.

"Can you not in front of us?" Dean asked, "It's a bit gross,"

You blushed slightly, closing your eyes for a moment before turning to your brothers, "Sorry, go sit on the couch and watch tv or something," You said. Dean nodded, making his way to the couch, but Sam stayed. "What's up?"

"I have some questions," He said gently, looking up at you.

You share a smile with Aaron before you both nod, "Sure," You said - all sitting down at the small table, "What's on your mind, kid?"

"Um, so you're boyfriends?"

"Yep,"

"Is that dangerous?" Sam asked, gnawing at the skin of his bottom lip.

"What do you mean?" You asked gently.

"Well it used to be not allowed so people must have been against it. You won't get hurt for it, will you?"

Your heart melted, seeing the concern on your younger brother's face and you shook your head, "I'll be okay," You reassured, "I'm your big brother, I'll always be okay,"

"But Dean said on the way here that there's some people who are really really against it,"

You closed your eyes, making a note to yourself to talk to Dean about that later. "Yes that can happen sometimes, but I'm not going to let that happen to me, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise,"

"Okay, good." With this, he turned to Aaron, "Are you going to be my older brother too?"

[witha-boxofscraps]

Imagine John Winchester makes it to old age and starts forgetting things. He’s old and frail and stubborn as hell and has pushed everyone else away.

Only Dean is there to look after him because “it’s called being a good son”.

And everyday, Dean does what he has to do to make sure his father is as comfortable as possible.

And John doesn’t remember him. And Dean’s okay with that, he’s old, it’s only natural.

But he can’t ignore the pain that stabs him every time John asks “Where’s Sammy?”

Because Dean was the one that stayed and helped. And no matter what he does, Sam will always be the favourite. Even on his father’s deathbed, that’s clear. Dean is forgotten, as always, and Sam is the one he looks for.

[cuntyqueerleondraisaitl]

FUCK John Winchester

I want this son of a bitch off my screen

[olderthannetfic]

Okay I NEED to know what the current most popular slash ships are, being on tumblr just feels like slash fandom is dying out, and I'd like to look up some ships because even if I don't like them, following other slash shippers feels so much nicer than seeing people bash them all the time.

--

On AO3, the m/m category is a tag like any other.

That means you can go directly to that tag and look at the sidebar, either in general or filtered for the past year. (No need to rely on those faulty ship stats.)

Broadly, the really massive juggernauts are still going, chugging along on fanon long after their canons have ended or gone to shit. A bunch of fandoms that younger people like are huge. And a lot of older people who used to only be into Western fandoms fell for The Untamed a few years ago and are now into lots of other danmei and BL fandoms. Thai dramas seem to be really heating up lately.

--

Here's the sidebar in general:

Castiel/Dean Winchester (108832)

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (68896)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (66461)

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson (66324)

James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (60107)

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (51611)

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (44020)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (42921)

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (42063)

filtering those out:

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (39754)

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (37086)

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (36739)

Keith/Lance (Voltron) (32031)

Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester (30843)

Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (29711)

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) (29591)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (28681)

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin (28574)

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (28260)

Or filtered for updating in the past year:

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (14878)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (12640)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (10617)

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (10353)

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (8964)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (8391)

Alhaitham/Kaveh (Genshin Impact) (8284)

Regulus Black/James Potter (7721)

filtering those out:

John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley (6879)

Castiel/Dean Winchester (6751)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (6723)

Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru (6253)

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (6245)

Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) (6228)

Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor (5725)

Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know (5632)

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (5201)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (4199)

In general, I would look at things with canon gay and/or at big anime, c-drama, and kpop RPF fandoms.

And block dickheads liberally when you see them in the tags on tumblr.

If you want to hang out with oldschool people, you could always come to Escapade con. We should be having an online one some time in the summer. There's also a discord. We're currently doing a group watch of Mysterious Lotus Casebook among other things.

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (4)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, angry Sam, Mary bashing

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (3)

“Sammy, I can’t just go to her hotel and ask her to forgive me or take me back,” Dean mutters under his breath. Sam talked him into confronting Mary and to talk to you before you got the chance to fly back home.

“Dean, this is your only chance. We will talk to mother and ask her if she has anything to do with the missing note. After we clarified that our mother is the worst,” Sam snorts at Dean’s pained expression. “What? We both know our parents are the perfect example of a failed marriage and selfishness.”

“Do you honestly believe Mother had something to do with the missing note?” Dean asks. He still doesn’t want to believe his mother would do such a thing.

“Yes, I believe she is behind all of this. Mother invited Lisa, and she distracted you. Hell, she even refused to acknowledge Y/N’s presence.” Sam throws his hands up. “Wake up. Our mother is a manipulative mastermind.”

“I’m going to ask you this only once, Mother,” Sam stalks toward his mother. He straightens his back and tries to look even more intimating as he dwarfs his mother. “Did you steal the note Y/N left that night eight years ago? Yes or no.”

“Samuel, where is this coming from out of a sudden? How dare you come here to attack your own flesh and blood like that,” Mary sniffles. “I can’t believe my son talks like that to me.”

“I guess this means yes, Dean.”

“Mother, what did the note say?” Dean pleadingly looks at his mother. “I know you wanted me to get back together with Lisa, but please, I need to know if you took the note Y/N left.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she snaps at her son. “If you’d excuse me now. I got better things to do than letting my sons walk all over me.”

“Stop!” Sam blocks his mother’s path when she tries to leave the room. “You will answer Dean’s question. I know you don’t care that you ruined his relationship with Y/N and that he lost the woman he loved that night. But I will not let you ruin the one chance he got with Y/N.”

“Samuel,” she sniffs and wipes a fake tear off her cheek. “I didn’t take a note. I saw the ring, that’s all.”

“So, you admit that you entered their room that night,” Sam takes a step toward his mother and another. “Answer my question. Did you enter their room and take the note.” He gets louder with every word. “YES OR NO MOTHER!”

“YES!” She sneers. “I never liked that woman. She was no good for your brother. I invited Lisa to make him see what he was missing out. I took the note and left the ring. It was for the best.”

“What did she write?” Dean asks again. “I need to know.”

“I don’t remember,” she shrugs. “I burned the note, and that’s the end of the story. You should thank me.”

“You are dead to me,” Dean shakes his head when Mary tries to touch his arm. “You ruined the best thing ever happening to me. I can’t believe I was too blind to see that you’re a manipulative bitch.”

Dean turns on his heels and storms out of the house. He gets into his car to drive toward your hotel, forgetting about his brother and his hurt pride. He’ll try to get you back. No matter what.”

“Now that Dean is gone,” Sam’s voice is dangerously low as he leans closer. “You will tell me what she wrote. If not, I’ll make sure John will hear about your dirty little secret.” He smirks darkly when his mother whimpers. “The pool boy…”

Dean didn’t make it in time. When he arrived at your hotel, you already checked out. He drove as fast as possible, pushing his beloved car to its limit, but it was no use. 

The airplane was in the air, and you were gone. Once again, he came too late…

“Mommy!” Your son runs toward you, giggling and laughing when you pick him up and twirl him around. “How was your flight? Did you get me something cool?”

“I got you something cool,” you whisper and peck his hair. “Look inside my back, baby. You’ll love it. Uncle Bobby got it for you.”

“Cool,” your son opens your bag to find another classic car model. It’s a 1967er Impala. A split-image of Dean’s car. The one your son wanted since he found an old picture of Dean and his car. “I love it, mommy.”

“I know baby,” you run your hand over his hair. You sigh but shake the sadness off. Seeing Dean after so many years hurt you more than you thought possible. “Let’s have dinner before we look for the perfect spot for the car.”

Your son was fast asleep while sleeping soundly on the couch. After dinner, and a long conversation with your son about cars, and the airplane he drew, you fell asleep on the couch.

The last days drained all the energy out of you, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Dean had the guts to blame you for leaving. He even lied about the note you left.

Dean wrings his hands. He debates whether to use the number he got from Charlie or not. What if you don’t take his call? What if you don’t believe his mother stole the note you left?

He takes a deep breath and dials your number, waiting for you to pick up the phone.

Dean closes his eyes, holding his breath when you take the call.

 "Hello, this is Ms. Y/L/N phone you are speaking to. I'm Michael Joseph Y/L/N, how can I help you?" Dean gasps at the other end of the line, whilst he tries to find his voice. He didn’t expect a child to answer his call.

"Hi, I'm Dean Winchester and I wanted to talk to your aunt Y/N Y/L/N..."

"That’s my mother, Sir. My aunt lives in France. I'm afraid my mother fell asleep on the couch. I'm asking you to call again in the morning."

"You're Y/N's son, huh?" Nosy Dean tries to get more information. "How old are you buddy? When is your birthday?"

"Why do you want to know?” your son asks. “Mom said not to tell strangers more about me. I don’t know you, so you are a stranger.”

“Uh-I’m an old friend of your mom. I’d like to give you something for your birthday,” Dean feels bad for lying to a child, but he can’t stop now.

“I'm seven, Sir. But I'll turn eight soon...well in a few months." Your son politely answers while Dean tries to remember how to do mathematics. His heart races and his jaw goes slack realizing he's got a child...with you. "Shall I tell my mom you called?"

"No, it's okay, buddy. I'll call her later..." Dean hastily says. The last thing he wants is for you to know that he knows about your sweet little secret.

Half an hour later Dean stands in front of Sam’s door, he harshly knocks and calls his brother’s name.

"SAM, Sammy, we got to fly to London, today,” he calls for his brother. “SAMMY! OPEN THE DOOR!

Sam opens the door. He yawns and rubs his tired eyes. “Dude, it's 2 am. Why are you at my apartment?" Sam grumbles. “Can’t this wait?”

"Sammy…I got a son,” Dean splutters and wildly gestures toward his car. “Y/N got my kid and I need to get to London...now..."

Designed by pain (5)

Tags in reblog.

[kokabeeeel]

tw: forced feminisation, slight underage, need for power imbalance.

———

as sam got older, they’d question dean if they were truly a girl - coming out of sex-ed for the first time, asking dean why she had a penis if she was really a girl, made dean want to bash his head into the steering wheel and pull sam out of school.

pulling sammy from school though, dean knows that john would suspect something, so he took it upon himself to teach sammy sex-ed: “some mommy’s, and some little girls, have an extra little bit. it doesn’t mean anything, baby girl- you’re still my special girl, just like i’m still your mommy.”

teaching little sammy the wonders of her body, was liquid crack to dean; full permission to have his hands roam every inch of his baby girls skin…

it left him panting.

he didn’t allow himself to go any further than touching. he’d hold sammy’s member in his hand, but he’d never stroke, only ever hold.

it made everything so much sweeter and dean wanted it to last forever: sammy, his baby girl and dean, sammy’s mommy.

but winchesters aren’t known for their good luck.

dean knew that kids outgrew their parents, but not once did he think sammy would out grow him - dean was more than just sammy’s mommy after all - he was certain it was a prank when sammy had shown him the acceptance letter.

there was no prank; dean’s baby girl was leaving: “i need this, mommy. if you loved me, you’d let me have this.”

when sam left for stanford, dean was frightened that sammy would forget all of what dean had told her; forget all of dean’s training.

picking sammy up, he was glad that wasn’t the case: seeing sammy’s long hair and satin sleep dress, dean couldn’t stop himself from calling sammy ‘his good girl’.

the way sam had flushed with that made dean’s world tilt on its side.

the way sammy had asked: “where are we going, mommy?” in a breathy voice most certainly didn’t help. it took all of dean’s willpower not to pull his baby girl into his lap and leave her whimpering.

on the drive back to stanford though - "please, mommy, i have an interview first thing in the morning; it means a lot for me and my future, mommy." - and about 50 miles from their destination, dean no longer had any strength to hold back.

pulling onto the side of the road, dean jumped out of the car and made his way over to the passenger side door; dragging sammy out only to push them into the back seat.

the look sammy gave him was the exact same one from all those years ago; sweet puppy dressed in pretty pink.

"what are you doing, mommy?"

cupping sammy's cheek, dean asked: "are you my good girl, sammy?"

———

part 1

[destielsuperfan]

Happy Birthday Y’a Old Man!

Summary - Dean reaches 45 years of life, and lets himself reflect on the significant birthdays leading up to this one.

Word Count - 2024 (so proud of myself - I did this on purpose)

Rating - General Audiences

Pairings - Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Happy Dean Winchester, Dean’s Birthday Bash, they get the ending they deserve, Post-Season/Series 15, Bad Parent John Winchester, no beta - we die like everyone on this show for some reason, Domestic Fluff

Authors Note -

hey everyone - this is just a small fic I wrote to celebrate Dean’s b-day. it’s also my submission for #DeansBirthdayBash by @chocolatecakecas. as we all know, Dean’s a special and lovable character (and I love how our birthdays are just five days apart) so I wanted to do something small.

enjoy!!!

[thsillystringbeanscribbler]

Bunny Slippers: Chapter Two

Summary: Julia shares the research John had asked her help with, giving the brothers a small insight into what led to their father disappearing. Is it possible that John not only put his sons in danger but also the Blackburns?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader [ OC: Julia Blackburn ]

Warnings: mostly fluff with violence and angst, maybe slow burn

Word Count: 6,408 words

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the previous chapter and for all your support. I hope this chapter is just as enjoyable for you! I have had this story in the drafts for a while, using it as an excuse to avoid doing my research proposal... Also s/o to Ness and my thesaurus

(gif from Pinterest)

The initial jolt of hearing the "Yellow-Eyed Demon" mentioned had sent a shockwave through Dean, but it quickly settled into a focused urgency. They fell into a rhythm, each leafing through the contents of Julia and John's collective research, a dance of minds across the pages.

Sam was absorbed in a notebook, the elegance of Julia's script weaving through the more rugged annotations of their father. Dean, positioned across the table, glanced intermittently between the lines of text and Julia, who was gracefully navigating the bookshelves in search of a volume Sam had inquired about. Her movements were a silent ballet, her curls keeping time with her search until she found her mark.

"Aha!" The sound was a soft triumph. Dean watched, a half-smile playing on his lips, as Julia stretched on her tiptoes, reaching for an ancient cloth-bound book just beyond her grasp.

Before she could concede to the shelf's height, Dean was on his feet, moving towards her. His fingers brushed hers as they both reached for the elusive book. "Let me help with that, short stuff," he offered, his voice low and playful.

Julia glanced over her shoulder, and as her eyes traced the path up his chest to meet his gaze, Dean realized just how close he was, her scent enveloping him like a sweet spell. "Actually," she murmured, her hand dropping away as she adjusted her glasses, "that would be great. Thank you."

His heart thrummed a more animated rhythm, and with an easy reach, he retrieved the book. Handing it to her, he didn't miss the brief flicker of her eyes to his arm and back to the book, a silent acknowledgment of his strength.

"There you go, just your friendly neighbourhood book retriever at your service," he quipped with a wink, handing her the tome. "But if you need someone to reach the high notes—or anything else—just let me know." His smile was as cheeky as his words, his flirtation unmistakable yet light-hearted, a playful offer hanging in the library air.

Julia's smile was a mix of amusement and a touch of bashfulness as she accepted the book from Dean. "My very own hero," she teased, giving him a playful shoulder bump that spoke of a burgeoning camaraderie. She then turned towards the table, eager to share her find with Sam.

As Julia started explaining the contents of the book to Sam, he listened intently, his expression a blend of professional interest and brotherly concern. He managed to sneak a quick, warning glare at Dean, silently urging him to tread carefully in this dance of flirtation and research.

As Julia excitedly shared her findings, the rhythmic sound of footsteps ascending the stairs punctuated the room's quiet buzz of concentrated study. Rob, appearing at the archway with a tray laden with sandwiches, announced his contribution to the day's efforts with a warm smile. "Since I couldn't assist with the bookwork, I thought I'd at least keep the researchers fed," he said, his voice carrying the comforting timbre of familial care.

"Thanks, Dad," Julia responded, her voice a mixture of gratitude and a touch of embarrassment as she shuffled papers around to make room for the food, surreptitiously concealing the more sensitive research materials from her father's unsuspecting gaze.

Rob's eyes swept over the trio, a smile of paternal pride playing on his lips as he witnessed their dedication. Dean, unable to resist the lure of a good sandwich, eagerly grabbed one, his actions bordering on comical in their haste.

Clearing his throat, Rob adopted a more conversational tone, "I'm off to the store for some dinner supplies," he announced casually, hands resting on his hips as if bracing for a light-hearted debate. "And I insist, you boys are staying over tonight. Julia's barely scratched the surface with what she's got to show you. For all I know, she's got an entire Encyclopedia Britannica of notes stashed away," he joked, affectionately ruffling Julia's hair, causing it to stand on end from the static. Julia, caught in the warmth of the moment, could only blush and smile, her heart swelling with love for her father.

Sam, always the diplomat, responded with a gentle sincerity that was characteristic of him. "Rob, that's incredibly generous of you, but we wouldn't want to overstay our welcome," he said, his voice infused with genuine concern for their imposition. He glanced at Dean, who was now trying to listen while simultaneously battling with the sandwich stuffed in his mouth, a silent plea for his brother to back him up.

Dean, momentarily pausing his enthusiastic eating, chimed in with his trademark blend of humor and charm. "Rob, you sure you know what you're signing up for here?" he quipped, a playful glint in his eye. "I mean, Sam's snoring could wake the dead, and I'm not exactly a light eater, as you can see." He gestured to the sandwich, now considerably diminished. "But if you're insisting, who are we to turn down such hospitality? Just prepare yourself for the full Winchester experience," Dean added, his tone light, yet laced with an underlying gratitude for the warmth and normalcy that Rob's invitation offered.Their focused discussion was interrupted by the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Rob appeared in the archway, his presence commanding yet affable. "I might not be of much use with the books, but I've prepared lunch downstairs. if you're all hungry," he announced with a warm smile.

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes, a gesture laden with affection and exasperation, as Dean's antics continued. Their banter was interrupted by Rob's voice, brimming with amusement and a touch of challenge. "No worries, boys. I've had my fair share of tussles with Winchesters in the past," he declared with a playful wink, signaling his departure with the soft clatter of keys and the closing of the front door.

The trio settled into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the sound of contented munching as they each enjoyed the sandwiches Rob had prepared. Julia, having claimed the last available seat beside Dean, quickly finished her meal and delved back into her research. She sifted through the piles of notes and books, determined to uncover any piece of information that could aid Sam and Dean in their quest.

As daylight began to wane, the boundaries between afternoon and evening blurred. Unnoticed by the trio, Rob returned, the soft sounds of dinner preparation echoing from the kitchen. In his absence, a seamless dynamic had formed among them: Sam, ever curious, peppered Julia with questions, while Dean contributed sporadically, often caught up in the fervor of Julia's animated explanations. Her hands danced through the air, accentuating her points with a flourish, her enthusiasm infectious.

The day's energy gradually dwindled, and the room fell into a serene quietude. Julia, now seated closer to Dean, was engrossed in an ancient tome, her fingers absentmindedly braiding a lock of her auburn hair as she concentrated. Dean watched, fascinated by the rhythmical dance of her fingers, the way they skillfully entwined her hair into a delicate braid only to gently unravel it moments later. A longing stirred within him to reach out, to brush her hair aside, to feel the softness of the braid beneath his fingertips. Yet, he restrained himself, his attention momentarily captured by the way Julia's hand paused, holding the braid in place, while the other turned the page, her focus unwavering. Dean's response was a wry smirk, his pen held lightly between his teeth, his arm casually resting on the back of Julia's chair, a silent observer to her studious fervour.

The evening had settled in fully now, the darkness outside pressing against the windows of the library. The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of scattered lamps, casting long shadows between the rows of books. Julia, seated at the table, wrapped in the cocoon of their research, suddenly shivered, her skin pebbling with goosebumps. Dean, his arm casually resting across the back of her chair, noticed the subtle shake of her shoulders and the way she pulled her arms close.

"Hey, you cold?" Dean's voice was a low murmur, a gentle note of concern threading through it as he leaned in slightly, his hand moving instinctively to rub warmth back into her arms.

Julia offered a small nod, her teeth capturing her bottom lip in a fleeting gesture of discomfort. "Yeah, just a bit. I'll go grab my cardigan," she replied, her voice a mix of gratitude and a self-deprecating chuckle for her own vulnerability to the chill.

With a helpful nudge, Dean slid Julia's chair back, giving her space to stand. She moved with a swift purpose across the room, her form briefly silhouetted against the windows that opened onto the back terrace. As she reached the bookshelf lined wall that seemed nothing more than an elegant feature of the library, she revealed its secret—a door concealed within the bookcases. She opened it, the shelves swinging away with silent grace, and slipped through into the room beyond.

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the hidden passage, a flicker of astonishment crossing his face. "Sammy, check this out," he called out, a note of disbelief mixed with admiration in his voice, beckoning his brother to witness the unexpected twist in their surroundings.

A few heartbeats slipped by, the library humming with the quiet sound of ticking clocks and the soft rustling of pages. Then, the hidden door within the bookshelf swiveled open once more, and Julia stepped back into the library. She was now clad in a cozy red cardigan adorned with oversized brown buttons, her fingers lingering on the spine of a book as she gently nudged the secret door closed behind her.

When she turned, she was greeted by Sam and Dean, who were both staring at her with expressions of startled curiosity. Their eyes were wide, the sort of look that comes from boys who have seen countless wonders yet still find themselves surprised by new magic.

"What's wrong?" Julia asked, her voice tinged with amusement at their astonished faces.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, their shock melting into boyish intrigue. "Wrong?" Sam echoed, his tone light with excitement. "That was just—well, that was awesome."

Dean, ever the one to embrace the unexpected with a mixture of charm and bravado, couldn't hide his grin. "I mean, secret doors? Hidden rooms?" he said, stepping closer to where Julia stood. "This is like something straight out of a mystery novel. You got any more surprises hidden in this place?" His voice was a mix of jest and genuine wonder, as if the discovery of the secret passageway had added another layer of intrigue to Julia herself.

Julia's laughter, light and musical, filled the room as she watched Dean's and Sam's reactions. "No, it doesn't lead to Narnia," she said with a wink, "just to my bedroom. Want a quick tour?" Without waiting for an answer, she reached for a book spine, pulling it to swing the door open once again.

They were greeted by a short hallway, its walls lined with various framed pictures and memorabilia. Directly across from the secret door was a small walk-in closet, and to their right, a door hinted at a bathroom. Julia led them to the left, towards her bedroom.

With a gentle push, Julia's bedroom door creaked open, and Dean stepped through the threshold into a world that was unmistakably Julia's. The room was a cozy sanctuary, walls painted in a rich, warm hue, adorned with shelves teeming with books, their spines a rainbow of worn colours and titles. A lush array of plants breathed life into the space, their leaves spilling over shelves and hanging pots, framing the window that looked out into the night.

The bed, a solid wood frame, was draped with a thick, multi-coloured quilt that spilled over the sides, its pattern reminiscent of the vibrant cover art of classic rock albums. Beside it, a nightstand held a small lamp, casting a warm glow over the room, and beneath it, a stack of classic rock CDs leaned against an old radio, their presence an echo of tunes that had undoubtedly filled the room many times over.

Posters of rock legends like Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones graced the walls, their corners slightly curled from age, sharing space with intricate tapestries that softened the room with their texture. The scent of incense lingered faintly, mingling with the earthiness of the plants.

Dean took a moment to absorb the details, his eyes lingering on the details that spoke volumes about Julia's personality—a fusion of intellect, nature, and rock 'n' roll. "This is... pretty cool," Dean admitted, his voice low, as if speaking too loudly might disturb the tranquility of the space. "You've got great taste in music," he added, nodding towards the CDs with a grin.

Julia's reply came out in a bit of a jumble, the words tumbling over each other in a charming tangle. "Oh, uh—thanks," she managed, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She was just about to delve into a conversation with Dean when her father's voice, calling from the library, cut through their moment.

Back in the library, Rob stood framed in the archway, the light from the lamps casting a welcoming glow around him. "Hey, dinner's on the table, folks. Time to take a break and eat," he called out with an easy smile.

Julia's eyes lit up, a playful grin spreading across her face. "I'm so ready to eat, I could probably finish off the whole kitchen!" she exclaimed, her stomach seconding the motion with a well-timed grumble.

They watched as Rob retreated down the stairs, his footsteps echoing gently. Once he was out of earshot, Julia turned back to Sam and Dean, her expression shifting to one of urgency. "You guys head on down. I need to stash these papers away—Dad can't see this stuff," she said, her hands swiftly gathering the scattered documents into the folder she had used earlier to conceal their more secretive research.

The descent to the kitchen was a welcome break from the intensity of their research. Rob had prepared a simple yet hearty meal, filling the kitchen with the inviting aromas of homemade cuisine. The group gathered around the table, engaging in light, easy conversation that offered a brief respite from the weight of their task. There were laughs, shared stories, and an air of camaraderie that made the meal feel like a gathering of old friends rather than a recent acquaintanceship born of necessity.

After dinner, Sam and Rob, deep in discussion, migrated back to the living room, leaving Julia to start clearing the dishes. Dean, noticing her effort, felt a pull to lend a hand. He approached the sink where she was filling it with soapy water.

"Hey, let me give you a hand with that. Wouldn’t be right to enjoy your dad’s cooking and not help with the cleanup," Dean offered with a charming grin, rolling up his sleeves in preparation.

Julia looked up at him, her smile reflecting both surprise and appreciation. "That sounds like a plan. You wash, and I’ll dry," she proposed, her tone light and friendly.

As Dean plunged his hands into the sudsy water, he glanced at Julia and found an opening for a lighter conversation. "So, Van Halen, huh? Didn’t take you for a fan of the classics," he remarked, picking up a plate to wash.

Julia, drying a dish, chuckled softly. "Oh, I have a pretty eclectic taste in music, but yeah, Van Halen's definitely on the list. My dad and I used to jam to their tracks when I was a kid. It's like a time capsule of good memories," she shared, her eyes lighting up at the reminiscence.

"Can’t beat the classics," Dean agreed, his movements in sync with hers as they fell into a comfortable rhythm. "Their music's got this timeless edge, kind of like this place," he added, nodding subtly to the surrounding kitchen.

As they continued their task, Julia stood beside Dean, their arms occasionally brushing against each other. Each accidental touch sent a subtle current through the air, a silent acknowledgement of the chemistry building between them. The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by shared smiles and brief glances, creating an atmosphere that was as warm and inviting as the kitchen they stood in.

As they worked side by side, Dean noticed Julia's striking green eyes and long lashes, focused on drying a plate. He remembered a photograph he had seen earlier on the mantelpiece, featuring a younger version of the people present, including a woman with auburn curls similar to Julia's. "That picture on the mantle, with your dad and my folks, that was your mom, wasn't it?" Dean inquired, trying to connect the dots.

Julia's lips curved into a small, proud smile. "You've got a sharp eye, Winchester," she replied, her pace slowing a bit as she engaged in the conversation.

Dean, curious yet cautious, ventured further. "And your mom? Where is she now?" he asked gently.

Julia paused, her gaze drifting to the courtyard visible through the kitchen window. "She... she passed away when I was eight," she said, a hint of sorrow in her voice. Before Dean could respond, she added, "It was a car accident."

Dean felt a pang of empathy, knowing all too well the pain of losing a parent at a young age. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said softly, his tone sincere. "Sam and I, we lost our mom too when I was just a kid. It's tough, losing someone like that.”

Julia glanced at Dean, her expression softening. "I'm really sorry you went through that too, losing your mom," she said gently, her hand reaching out to touch his arm in a comforting gesture. Dean offered a small smile, trying to play it cool despite the flutter in his chest from her touch.

As they wrapped up the kitchen duties, Julia handed the last dried plate to Dean along with the towel to dry his hands. "Here, looks like you might need this," she said with a light laugh, breaking the solemn mood.

Dean chuckled, drying his hands. "Thanks. You know, talking about Van Halen earlier got me thinking. What's your take on Led Zeppelin?" he asked, shifting the conversation to a lighter note as they started moving toward the living room.

Julia lit up at the change of topic. "Led Zeppelin? Now we're talking. 'Stairway to Heaven' is a masterpiece, but 'Kashmir' always gets me," she responded enthusiastically.

"Ah, 'Kashmir', that's a solid choice. I'm more of a 'When the Levee Breaks' guy myself," Dean admitted, as they lingered in the hallway, neither in a hurry to end their one-on-one time.

As they finally stepped into the living room to rejoin Sam and Rob, Dean and Julia shared a look, their eyes locking in a moment that seemed to stretch, charged with an unspoken understanding. The brief, intense connection was broken as they merged into the group, but the spark between them lingered in the air.

As they emerged into the living room, Dean and Julia exchanged a glance, their eyes holding a silent conversation that needed no words. It was a fleeting moment of connection, yet it seemed to hang between them, a subtle charge in the air that neither of them quite wanted to let go of.

They slipped into the flow of the evening seamlessly, their presence fitting into the ongoing conversation as if they had never stepped away. Laughter and the rich timbre of shared stories filled the room, the passage of time marked only by the deepening night outside.

Eventually, Rob glanced at the clock, a look of mild surprise crossing his face. "Well, I'll be—time's flown by," he commented with a chuckle, shaking his head in mild disbelief.

Julia, who had been captivated by Dean's animated recounting of a particularly wild hunt, was pulled back to the present by her father's words. She covered a yawn with her hand, the late hour catching up to her. "Guess it's about time to crash," she said, her words tinged with humour and a tired smile playing on her lips.

Everyone rose from their seats, stretching and sharing satisfied smiles after a night of good company. "All right, gentlemen, follow me. I'll show you where you'll be bunking tonight," Rob said, giving Sam a friendly pat on the back as he led the way to the stairs.

They all ascended the stairs, the soft murmur of their footsteps a contrast to the laughter that had filled the room moments before. At the second-floor landing, Julia paused, turning to the brothers with a gentle smile. "Good night," she offered, her voice soft, echoing the sweetness of the evening they had shared.

With a wave, she disappeared around the corner into her room, leaving the brothers to continue their ascent. Reaching the third floor, Rob pointed down the hall. "Your rooms are right over there. Mine's just back this way if you need anything," he said, giving them a nod before retreating to his own space and closing the door with a quiet click.

Dean and Sam each chose a door, finding themselves in rooms that mirrored each other in their simple, understated elegance. Dean's room was marked by deep, forest green walls that exuded a serene, calming energy. The solid wood bed frame was dressed in linens of a matching green hue, and a knitted throw lay casually at the foot of the bed. A bedside table held a vintage lamp, its warm light inviting a sense of peace. A single, potted plant added a touch of life to the room, its leaves gently rustling in the night breeze that whispered through a slightly ajar window.

Dean set his bag down, taking in the room with an appreciative nod. "Not too shabby," he remarked to himself, a low whistle of approval escaping him. He glanced around, noting the lack of his usual motel-room amenities but also the unique charm of this place. "Gotta say, this beats the usual digs on the road," he mused aloud, even though only the walls could hear him. With a final glance at the room that felt unexpectedly like a home, Dean allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation before he prepared to call it a night.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The morning light was a subtle intruder, sneaking through the narrow breach between the curtains, and it was the soft rapping at his door that finally stirred Dean from his slumber. The familiar cadence of a gentle knock, followed by a voice he was quickly growing fond of, coaxed him awake.

"Dean? You decent in there? I've got coffee," Julia's voice was soft but clear through the door, tinged with a laughter that hadn't quite bubbled to the surface.

"Yeah, come on in," Dean called back, his voice gruff with sleep but warm with invitation.

The door creaked open, and Julia peeked around it with caution, a visual check to save them both any embarrassment. Dean took in the sight of her, looking just as effortlessly charming as she had the day before. Her hair was swept up into a bun that defied the laws of gravity, and she was swathed in an oversized Van Halen t-shirt paired with flannel Batman pajama pants tucked into tube socks—one white, one grey—topped off with pink bunny slippers. It was an ensemble that Dean found unexpectedly endearing.

She tiptoed over to where he sat up in bed, the covers sliding to his waist to reveal the lean muscles of his torso. Julia's eyes briefly danced across his skin, the blush on her cheeks deepening, before she averted her gaze to the safety of the coffee mug. "Heard you might be hitting the road soon," she said, her eyes finding his again. "Figured you could use a caffeine kick to start your day."

Dean accepted the mug, the steam curling up to mingle with the stubble on his chin. He took a sip, the rich flavor hitting all the right notes. "Mmm, that's perfect. You're a lifesaver, Julia." He winked, the gesture softening the rugged lines of his face. "This is exactly what I needed.”

A bashful grin spread across Julia's face as Dean's wink sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. With a nervous little push of her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she began to retreat from the room.

"I–uh, I should..." she stammered, her words trailing off as her eyes inadvertently drifted back to Dean's uncovered chest. The close encounter with Dean's rugged appeal was unexpectedly disarming, and in a flustered haste to regain her composure, she moved to leave more quickly. "I've got to get ready for the day, so, see you out there," Julia rushed the words, nearly tripping over them as she made her swift exit, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Left alone in the quiet room, Dean couldn't help but let a self-satisfied smirk creep across his lips. There was something gratifying about this mutual, unspoken attraction, the way they both seemed to fumble a little in each other's presence. He took another sip of his coffee, the warmth of the brew a perfect echo of the heat that had risen in his cheeks from their exchange.

The aroma of sizzling bacon guided Dean down the staircase, the rich, inviting scent a herald of the morning's feast. As he entered the kitchen, he found Rob and Sam already embroiled in a hearty conversation. The absence of Julia was a silent note in the room, leaving Dean with an anticipation he wasn't fully willing to acknowledge.

"Morning," Rob greeted him with a friendly nod, serving up another portion of bacon onto a plate already heaping with eggs. "Hope the bed was comfortable."

Dean nodded, taking in the spread on the kitchen table. "Yeah, slept like a rock, thanks. You guys sure know how to make a guest feel at home," he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in appreciation as he piled his own plate high with breakfast.

"You tuck in, Dean. Julia'll be joining us shortly," Rob assured him, the clatter of utensils against the plates punctuating his words.

Sam chimed in from across the table, his attention momentarily drifting from the conversation he was having with Rob. "Yeah, make yourself at home, Dean. We're not exactly in a rush this morning," he said, his own plate a more measured portion, indicative of his methodical nature.

The usual backdrop of Led Zeppelin was absent that morning, replaced by the low hum of familial chatter. The calm was pleasantly disrupted when Julia made her entrance, her presence as much a jolt to the room as caffeine. She was dressed in a pair of high-waisted denim flares that hugged her frame before flaring out dramatically past the knee, paired with a fitted ringer tee that featured a Styx band logo across the chest. Her hair was kept back with a simple headband, her scholarly glasses framing her bright eyes as she walked in with a bounce in her step.

"Morning," Julia greeted the room with a chipper tone, her voice infusing a burst of energy as she went about compiling her breakfast with a certain cheerfulness. She couldn't resist snagging an extra strip of bacon from the platter, biting into it with a satisfied grin as she took her seat.

"So, you boys thinking of hitting the road today?" Rob inquired, glancing over at the brothers as he took a sip of his coffee.

Sam leaned back in his chair, considering their schedule. "We've got a bit of a drive ahead of us, but we're in no hurry. Gonna enjoy breakfast first," he said, his tone easy and relaxed, indicative of their momentary respite from the road.

Dean, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying the pancakes and bacon before him, but from the moment Julia entered, his gaze intermittently drifted her way. Her casual, unassuming charm was a stark contrast to the intensity they shared earlier, and he couldn't help but be drawn to it, his eyes following her every move until she caught him looking and offered him a warm smile.

The remnants of breakfast lay scattered across the table—a testament to the good food and better company. Dean pushed his chair back, the wooden legs scraping gently against the floor, and gave Sam a firm pat on the back. "Alright, Sammy, time to hit the road," he announced, his voice carrying a slight edge of reluctance.

Rob nodded in understanding as they all moved towards the front door, the echoes of their morning together still hanging in the air. "Sounds like you boys have got places to be," Rob observed, a hint of a fatherly tone to his voice.

Standing in the entryway, Dean extended his hand to Rob, gripping it firmly. "Rob, you've been great. Thanks for the hospitality, and, you know, for not asking too many questions," he said with a half-grin.

Rob returned the handshake with equal firmness. "You fellas ever find yourselves back in this neck of the woods, you stop on by. We'll have ourselves a little catch-up over dinner," he replied, clapping Sam on the shoulder with a warm smile.

Before they could step out, Julia's voice cut in, "Oh shoot, wait up!" In a flurry of motion, she dashed upstairs, leaving Dean and Sam exchanging a puzzled look.

Moments later, Julia bounded back down with a folder in hand, which she eagerly extended to Dean. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her, a jolt of connection sparking between them at the touch. Julia's blush was immediate and vivid, her eyes darting away as she stepped back. "It was, uh, really nice meeting you," she said, her voice a mix of earnestness and nerves as she fumbled with her glasses.

Dean, holding the folder now, allowed his eyes to linger on hers a moment longer. "Julia, the pleasure was all mine," he said with that signature Winchester smirk, "And thanks for the intel—looks like we owe you one."

As they walked out onto the porch, Julia leaned against the doorway, her voice carrying down to where Dean stood by the sleek black Impala. "Don't forget, I get a ride in this beast next time!"

Dean turned, his smile as bright as the morning sun. "It's a deal, Juliet. I'll even let you pick the music," he called back, the promise hanging in the air like a vow.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Dean caught the amused yet exasperated expression on Sam's face. "You're ridiculous, you know that?" Sam said, the words light but pointed, a brotherly tease that carried all the history of their shared lives.

Dean just chuckled, sliding the key into the ignition. "Jealousy's not a good look on you, Sammy," he retorted, already looking forward to the road ahead—and the promise of returning.

–––––––––––––––––––––––OoOoO----------––––––––––––––––––

Months had slipped by since their last visit to the Blackburns, each day filled with the unrelenting rhythm of the hunt. Now, a new case on the East Coast presented the perfect opportunity to reconnect with their newfound allies. Remembering Julia's number, which he had wisely secured during their previous encounter, Sam turned down the volume of the rock anthem blaring through the Impala's speakers, much to Dean's chagrin, and dialled the number.

"Hey Julia, it's Sam," he spoke into the phone, his voice carrying a blend of professionalism and the warmth of a burgeoning friendship.

Dean's attention, previously focused on the road, sharpened at the mention of Julia's name. The memory of her – the wild auburn curls, the vivid green eyes, her eclectic taste in music, and her infectious passion for knowledge – had a way of occupying his thoughts in the quieter moments between hunts.

From his side of the phone, Sam's smile grew at whatever Julia was saying on the other end. "We're heading your way for a case and thought we'd call ahead before showing up at your doorstep," he said, only to be interrupted by Julia's response.

Chuckling softly, Sam replied, "Thanks, Julia. We appreciate it. See you in a few hours."

Dean, who had been following the conversation with increasing anticipation, couldn't contain his curiosity. "What'd she say?" he asked, his voice a mix of eagerness and an attempt at nonchalance.

Sam turned to Dean, a knowing look in his eyes. "She's invited us for dinner and offered to let us stay the night," he revealed.

Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise, a hint of excitement flashing across his features. "Well, that's unexpected. Guess we're having dinner at the Blackburns'," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Sam nodded, turning his gaze back to the road ahead. "Yeah, and it's good timing too. We could use a friendly place to crash, and it'll be nice to catch up with them. Especially after all the help they gave us."

Dean nodded in agreement, his mind already racing ahead to the evening. The prospect of seeing Julia again added an unexpected but not unwelcome dimension to their impromptu visit. As the Impala ate up the miles, the brothers settled into a comfortable silence, each lost in their thoughts about the case ahead and the reunion to come.

Early afternoon had found Sam reaching out to Julia, the day still ripe with potential. But as the Impala cruised into Boston, the city was cloaked in the hues of a setting sun, casting long shadows and painting the skyline in shades of orange and purple. When they finally pulled up in front of the Blackburn residence, dusk was settling in, the day's light fading fast.

Stepping out of the car, the Winchester brothers approached the house, the familiar steps creaking slightly under their weight. Dean's gaze swept over the red-brick façade, noting how the warm glow of the setting sun played off the building's features. The once vibrant wisterias had transitioned into less leafy, more dormant vines, a testament to the changing seasons.

Reaching the front door, Dean moved ahead to knock, his hand raised. But as his knuckles made contact, he felt an unsettling give in the door. His eyes narrowed, observing the signs of forced entry—the door had been broken in.

Motioning for Sam to close in, Dean's hand instinctively went to the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans, his movements swift and practiced. Sam, understanding the unspoken signal, mirrored his brother's caution, his own hand inching towards his weapon.

Together, they slipped into their well-rehearsed hunting stances, a silent dance of readiness honed by years of facing the unknown. With a gentle nudge, the door swung open, its creak breaking the eerie silence that enveloped the house.

Inside, the quiet was almost tangible, a heavy stillness that set every one of their trained senses on edge. Dean took a cautious step forward, his eyes scanning the dimly lit interior for any sign of movement, any hint of what might have transpired within these walls. Sam followed close behind, his gaze darting to the shadows that lurked in the corners of the entrance hall.

The familiar warmth and charm of the Blackburn residence now felt like a distant memory, replaced by a palpable sense of danger and the unknown. They moved forward, each step a blend of caution and readiness, prepared for whatever they might find.

Stealthily, the Winchester brothers made their way into the dimly lit interior of the Blackburn residence. The entry hallway, to their relief, seemed undisturbed, a calm front to the storm they feared lay within. They moved forward with practiced silence, every sense attuned to their surroundings.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the second floor shattered the stillness, jolting them into high alert. Exchanging a glance, they wordlessly agreed to investigate. With cautious steps, they ascended the stairs, each creak underfoot sounding thunderous in the eerie silence.

Reaching the second floor landing, they were greeted by the last remnants of dusk light streaming through the bay window. The scene that unfolded before them was one of chaos. The once meticulously organized room was now a landscape of destruction. Shelves had been toppled, their contents strewn across the floor in a wild disarray. Drawers and cupboards had been violently emptied, their innards scattered without care.

Amid the wreckage, they heard the sound of frustrated rustling. Dean, gun in hand but aimed safely at the ground, cautiously stepped further into the room. Peering around a corner, his gaze landed on a towering figure standing by the large window overlooking the terrace. The figure's build and presence were unmistakably those of Rob Blackburn.

"Rob?" Dean called out tentatively, his voice laced with a mix of concern and caution.

At the sound of his name, the dark form of Rob whirled around to face Dean. The warm, inviting eyes they had known were now an abyssal black, cold and unyielding. It was a jarring sight—their ally, transformed into something sinister.

As Dean stood there, staring at the unnaturally black eyes of the man they had come to know as an ally, a chilling thought cut through the tension: Where is Julia? Her safety suddenly became the most pressing concern in his mind, overshadowing even the immediate threat of the demon before them.

"Where's Julia?" Dean demanded, his voice firm, his weapon still pointed safely at the ground but his stance ready for any sudden moves. The question wasn't just a tactical one; it was personal, fueled by a concern that had grown deeper than he'd initially realized.

The demon inhabiting Rob's body let out a low, menacing chuckle, a sound that was all the more unsettling coming from Rob's familiar frame. "Worried about the girl, are we?" it taunted, its voice a twisted echo of Rob's.

Dean's jaw clenched, a mix of anger and worry flashing in his eyes. He exchanged a quick, meaningful glance with Sam. They both knew that finding Julia was now their top priority, but they also couldn't ignore the demon standing before them.

The situation had escalated beyond a simple hunt. It was personal, and the stakes were higher than ever. The brothers needed to navigate this carefully – one wrong move could put Julia in even more danger.

To be continued . . .

Chapter Three

[etherealspacejelly]

My first ever published fic! This is my contribution to Dean's Birthday Bash 2024 (run by @chocolatecakecas) :)

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Relationship: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, Brotherly Love, Pre-Canon, Brotherly Affection, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Mentioned John Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Birthday, Birthday Cake

Summary:

When John is away on a hunt for Dean's birthday, Sam tries to cheer him up with a surprise birthday treat.

There is no specific age for Sam and Dean in this one, but I would say Dean is late teens and Sam is early teens. It's generally pretty light and sweet but there is some Very Minor angst for like two seconds. I don't think it is enough to be worth tagging but let's just say John is mentioned.

This is a one-shot, very short and sweet :)

[reigningqueenofwords]

Glitter

Part 4 of Dad’s Back

You were absolutely livid when John talked to you about staying with Ellen. Yes, you loved Ellen, and had a lot of fun with Jo, but you loved being with your father and brothers more! John tried to appeal to you, pointing out that you could make friends, go to a dance class, no more traveling a lot, etc. If looks could kill, your glare would have dropped John dead. Finally, he ended up making you a deal. You would try to stay with Ellen, and if you didn’t like it come Christmas time, you could leave with John and the boys. You’d caved, agreeing to at leas that. 

You started kindergarten in August, along with dance lessons. You didn’t mind school so much, but loved those dance lessons. John made sure that you had anything you needed for it, wiring Ellen money when he could. Two months later, you had your first dance recital. There was no way the three Winchester men would miss it. They arrived two days before, and you’d squealed when you saw them. It was a Halloween themed recital, and you couldn’t wait for them to see your costume. 

John watched you dance, beaming with pride. You seemed to flourish at Ellen’s, and while he missed you like crazy…it was worth it. “Daddy!” You ran to him after you’d changed backstage, letting him scoop you up. 

“You were great, princess!” He beamed. “I’m glad you’re liking your dance classes.” 

“Y/N/N is a natural.” Your dance teacher came over. “She picks things up extremely quickly.” 

“She’s a smart one.” Dean grinned. 

“That’s Dean.” You told her. “And that’s Sammy.” You pointed, as she had met John, but not the boys. 

She smiled. “So these are the famous big brothers.” She chuckled as they looked a tad bashful. “She speaks very fondly of both of you.”

Instead of going off with John and the boys the following summer as planned, you’d stayed with Ellen. You were taking dance classes two days a week, and then gymnastics one day a week. You didn’t want to get behind. John understood, but had been looking forward to having you around for a couple months. 

When it came time for a gymnastics competition right before school started, you were confused to see only John and Dean. “Where’s Sammy?” You asked, worried. “Did something happen?” 

John crouched. “We got into a fight, princess.” He explained. “He left. He’s in California for college.” He refused to repeat what he’d told his son, not wanting that on your shoulders.

“He won’t get to see my first competition?” You asked sadly. “I was so excited!” The last time you’d seen him was for your 6th birthday.

Dean could tell you were getting upset. “Hey, Jo told me you got some new nail polish. Wanna show me? I’ll even let you do my nails.” He tried. 

You still looked extremely disappointed that Sammy wasn’t there, and John felt guilty. “Me, too.” He offered, making Dean look surprised. “Anything for Y/N/N.” He tapped your nose. 

“K.” You agreed. While it didn’t make up for Sam missing your competition, you were looking forward painting their nails. “Ellen and Jo let me practice on them.” You weren’t the best at it, but you enjoyed it anyway. “I’ll go get my nail polish!” You told them before taking off to your room. 

They left three days after your competition, nails still painted. Dean’s were blue with glitter, and John’s were multi-colored (blue, purple, pink, and orange). “I’m surprised you didn’t ask Ellen for nail polish remover.” Dean noted. 

“Neither did you.” John pointed out, smirking. 

“Hey, she did a good job.” Dean looked at his hands. “And she had a blast. Who knows if we’ll be out here to see her in a couple weeks, or a couple months. This way she’s kind of with us.” He said fondly. “I’m glad that she liked things enough to stay here.” 

John nodded. “I am, too.” He agreed. “I’m terrified about when the other shoe falls. She’s been here, living a normal life, for a year. You never got that. You got months. I’m scared I’ll get a call in the middle of the night that something happened.” 

“I get it.” He felt the same way. “At least she’ll have at least a year of not worrying about traveling, and seeing us come back to motel rooms all beat up.” That was something in his mind. 

Tagging: @ilovetaquitosmmmm

[stay-pos-cos]

Some thoughts on the Winchester brothers.

The alignment of Sam with Hell and Dean with Heaven happens well before we learn that they are the true vessels.

Sam refers to seeing himself as unclean or tainted due to Azazel's (yellow eyes). As though by ingesting the blood of a demon he fell from personhood so something othered and twisted.

Dean is Sam's savior, he pulled Sam from the flames as a child and raised him in their father's absence. Dean sees himself (and Sam) as righteous and good as they save people and fight evil.

As Sam uses his abilities both he and Dean fear that he is straying from this righteous path, even when the visions are beyond his control. When Sam discovers that Azazel wants him to lead the armies of Hell we see this cemented in his character, from birth he was watched over by Hell's forces to become a weapon.

Dean acts as a counter balance even before the boys discover the existence of angels where Sam seems to have a knack for falling in love or in lust with monsters, Dean's interests lie in humanity (until the angels enter the chat (Anna/Cass)

When Sam starts drinking demon blood he unwittingly offers himself to Hell in a way, allowing the lifeblood of the damned to enter him of his own free will.

When Sam made the decision to leave John and Dean not once, not twice but three times he was mirroring Lucifer leaving the Kingdom of his father, feeling undervalued and slighted by the favor of his father being given to another.

Alternatively when Dean stayed he was the faithful soldier modeled after the heavenly host. Unwaveringly faithful to the father that had forsaken and banished his brother.

[bigmouthlass]

Title:  Artificial Lullabye

Series: Supernatural B-Sides

Author:  BJ

Fandom:  Supernatural

Rating:  Teen

Pairing:  John Winchester/Mary Winchester

Synopsis:  We all know Hey Jude is what Mary sang to her babies as a lullabye. It's a good choice, you can na-na forever until the kid calms down. John, being half a macho bastard and with different tastes in music, would probably sing something a little bit different.

Tags:  John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Baby Dean, Songfic, Teething Babies Are Evil, John's Not A Complete Bastard

AN:  Song is "Hootchie Cootchie Man," written by Willie Dixon and covered by Steppenwolf on their self-titled album. Before anybody says anything, Mildred Winchester's Universal Teething Cure isn't recommened because alcohol is poison-- use whatever gum medicine your pediatrician recommends. All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

Asleep on his feet, John shuffled down the hall towards the shrieking of all the damned souls of Hell.  Funny, he reflected, of all the times Mary had threatened to run away and join the circus since having the baby, it was only after the little fiend started teething that he'd started to worry she might actually do it.  Funny too, of all the skills bashed into his head in Basic the ability to function while effectively dead was proving most useful in life as a husband and father.

Making shushing noises, John crossed the nursery to the crib under the window, where his firstborn son wailed in agony to the heavens above.  If angels really were watching, poor bastards must be getting an earful.  "C'mere, Deano," John said, lifting Dean and settling him on his chest.  Did the little rat calm down in the protective circle of his father's arms, lulled by the steady beat of a heart under his tiny pink ear?  Hell no.  Assured of a captive audience, Dean screamed straight into John's ear.  "Thanks kiddo, I can still hear out of that side," he muttered dryly.  "Let's go downstairs before your mother wakes up and bitches me out.  Again."

Down in the kitchen, John held Dean in one arm and used the other to assemble Mildred Winchester's Universal Teething Cure-- a glass of Four Roses on the rocks.  He dipped his finger into the chilled bourbon and slipped the finger into Dean's tiny mouth.  He winced as Dean bit down with his sharp new teeth.  Three on top and two on the bottom so far.  The demon spawn that had replaced his placid infant son had already drawn blood with the damned things.  God help him, John had come close to slapping Mary when she smacked Dean's nose while feeding him the other day.  He hadn't gotten it until she'd shown him the tiny tooth cuts on her nipple.

"Lesson number one," John said, massaging his cold whiskey-moist finger against Dean's feverish gums, "is real men never hurt girls.  Especially not that one."  Another dip and thank all the heavenly blessings Dean's howling tapered to sniffles.  A frozen waffle for gnawing and a quick wipe with John's handkerchief, Dean looked almost himself again, peering out at the world with his huge green eyes.  His paternal grandmother's eyes, and didn't Mom just love that?  Not like his own dark brown eyes -- a gift from Grandpa Solomon -- or Deanna Campbell's aquamarine.

He frowned.  For some reason, when he tried to think of meeting and talking with his in-laws, the memories felt strange in his head.  Like he'd been high at the time.

Hah.  Show up to the Campbell house bombed equals fancy way to scrag yourself.  Samuel Campbell had detested John on sight and John knew full well he'd never wavered from that judgement.

Dean started to fuss.  "Sorry Deano," John said, bringing his attention back to the present.  "Just me thinks."

John drank off the whiskey and stuck the glass in the sink.  Upstairs, he changed Dean and started to put Dean down in the crib.  Dean let out a little whine and John sighed.  On top of everything else, the boy was a slow sleeper.  Putting him straight down was just asking for a repeat performance.  "Can't never make things easy on your old man," he sighed, blissfully unaware of the coming years in which the scrap in his arms would become his only barricade between sanity and madness.  John settled Dean with his son's little face in the crook of his neck and shoulder and started pacing.  The Impala would put him under in a New York Minute, but he'd exchange a crabby baby for a crabby wife, and given a choice--

Well it wasn't like Mary was the only one of them who could run away and join the circus.  Maybe they could drop Dean off at Mom's and make it a mutual thing.  Goodbye son, hello sequined tights.  See ya when he hits college.

"Gypsy woman told my mother . . . 'fore I was born . . . you gotta boychild comin' . . . gonna be a real sonofagun . . ." John sang under his breath, keeping his steps short and gently bouncing to the blues riff.  "Gonna make the pretty womens . . . jump and shout," God it was a fucking miracle, Dean lay quiet in John's arms, waffle forgotten in his mouth, wide eyes turned up to John.  John grinned.

"Cuz you know I'm him . . ." he did a little reverse-step.  "EVER-ry body knows I'm him . . ." remembering Mary feather-light in his arms as they danced at that old honky-tonk outside Jackson, Steppenwolf blaring from the jukebox and realizing he'd fallen like a sack of mail.  "I'm your hootchie-coochie man . . ." God, Dean's little baby smile looked a lot like Mary's, sweet but with that edge, the one that told the world screw around with me at your own risk, "everybody knows I'm here."

He stuck to humming the next verse, and if he threw in a few dancing twirls nobody but God had to know.  If it got Dean to Dreamland he'd drop trou and do the funky chicken.

Yeah, John thought to himself, holding his son a little tighter.  No tinny music box tinkling out a cheap dime replica of a lullaby for his kids.  No disappearing into thin fucking air out of fucking nowhere, leaving Dean alone to be the man of the house.  It still blew John's mind that one day the tiny thing cuddled into him will be a man someday.

Just love him, Johnny, Mildred had told him, the first time she held her grandson in her arms.  Start with that and the rest will follow.

"Yes ma'am," John muttered.  "On the seventh hours . . . on the seventh day . . . the seventh month . . . seven doctors say . . ."

Mary cleared her throat from the doorway and John looked over his shoulder, meeting her tired smile with his own and holding a finger in front of his lips.  "He was born for good luck . . . and that you will see . . ."  Gentle as though he were disabling a landmine, John laid a snorting Dean down in the crib.  "I got seven hundred dollars, so don't you mess with me."   Dean let out a couple sleepy squirms and settled, his mouth curved in a tiny baby smile.  John chuckled a little.  Put it next to his Vietnam Service Medal-- I made my kid smile.

Turning to his wife, John pitched his voice low.  Suggestive.  "But," he pointed at Mary, "you know I'm him," Mary smothered a laugh with one hand, "everybody knows," John jerked a thumb back at himself, "I'm him.  I'm your hootchie-cootchie man," his arm went around Mary.  John kissed her neck where it made her giggle, breathing in her scent of clean hair and soft perfume and just a hint of milk, "Everybody knows, I'm him."

Mary checked on Dean.  She gave John a thumbs-up and tiptoed out.

"Should we ever tell him why you're singing that to him?" Mary asked.

John grinned.  "Sure.  When he's old enough to learn how to drive it."  Maybe they should make a pilgrimage to the bridge they'd been parked underneath that night.  He kissed Mary and pulled her close.

Mary melted under his touch for a few delicious minutes, then gently urged John still.  She yawned.  "Down boy."

"Yes ma'am."  Hand in hand, they went back up the hallway.

One whole step.  Then from behind they heard the tattletale tiny whines and snorts.  John shut his eyes and said something he picked up from the Island.  Mary rolled her eyes heavenword and said something she got from her sailor uncle.  Dean made up in volume what he lacked in vocabulary.

Mary looked at John.  John looked at Mary.  Together, they weighed their love for one another and their love for their son.

John threw Paper, Mary threw Rock.  Groaning, Mary turned on her heel and went to confront the Beast.  John stood and just listened for a long moment.  A corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile.  Up to his neck in picket fence wholesomeness and it felt good.

I'm a high school dropout who doesn't amount to much, John said to himself.  And I'm going to have to make it up as I go.  But I swear my son will grow up knowing what a man should be, because I'm going to be right there to show him.  Dean I promise-- you'll never doubt how much your daddy loves you.  Not ever.

---

Four years later, John will sit on a cot in a fire station with a howling infant and a silent little boy, the last of his wife leaving him as the smell of smoke fades from his clothes.  Dean still has Sammy in his arms and is pacing and bouncing, the way he's seen Mary do when Sammy fusses but of course he's pacing too fast and bouncing too hard.  He's too young to know babies need finesse.  The John Winchester that would've picked up both his boys and held them close is disappearing too and somehow Dean knows it.  John doesn't do anything but stare at nothing as the fire department's secretary coaxes Dean into slowing down.  She reshapes Dean's arms to cradle Sammy properly and shows him how to sway in that special soothing way.  John can't do anything but be distantly grateful.  At least Sammy's calming down.

Both of his sons will say later that for all intents and purposes John died when he found Mary burning alive over Sam's crib.  The reality is, John died when the secretary turned the radio on Low and his children spent their first night without their mother falling asleep to an artificial lullabye.

---

AN2: Wow, this went to an angsty place. I just re-watched S8E12, 'As Time Goes By,' and it explains a lot about John-- why he made the choices he did, why he absolutely refused to home-base the boys with Pastor Jim or Bobby, and why he never really acknowledged the damage he was doing to his sons. It's the question people raised by troubled parents have to grapple with all their lives; John did the best he could, but how much does that justify? Or excuse?

[fandom-hoarder]

Do you have any fic recs for Mary finding out about wincest/weirdcest or just Mary bashing fics? (Maybe you already made a list of fics like this and I just haven't seen it!!)

Your fic rec lists are always awesome :)

DUDE lol~ I didn't have one, but now I do!

I've been working on an outsider POV rec list, so I started there. This only overlaps a little bit with the other list.

Tbh, I prefer Mary POV or nuanced crit fic over straightup bashing fic, so I'm light on that front, but there are a couple here that might scratch the itch. (If anyone wants to add recs of that variety to this post, though, please feel free if it fits the scope of the ask!)

Mary Finds Out/Reacts to SamDean ~ a rec list

_

First check out this post from hathfrozen: hunters are tactile

_

Sons And Mothers by deanandsam

Rating: Mature | Words: 632 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Dean and Mary have a frank conversation which leaves the older Winchester heartbroken. Good job Sam's there to pick up the pieces.

My Note: short and dialogue-heavy, not Mary-positive

.

Oil in the Lungs by jribbing

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 3652 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Some say cruelty is an art. Some say it's an accident. Usually, it's both at the same time. Dean thought he wanted this. Dean thought he needed this.

My Note: Dean observes Mary's neglect of Sam when she leaves the bunker, and can't help comparing her to John. Mother's day Sam n Dean Emotional Hurt/Comfort. [podfic by the author available]

.

Let Her Leave, I've Got You by Anonymous

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 7190 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: AU Season 12 Episode 3 The Foundry

Mary's a bit more interested in Sam and Dean's past, Dean cares too much, and things quickly spiral out of control. But hey, Sam and Dean have each other to lean on when things get rough.

My Note: This fic contains abusive John and an unfavorable Mary. Dean POV.

.

More than a brother by Rajatarangini

Rating: Mature | Words: 2087 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: It is only now, when Sam has come back from the dead, that Mary finds out that her sons are more than just brothers to each other.

(Mary POV)

.

As Angels Watched by Ninni

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 449 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: It's the little things that makes Mary wary, at first.

.

something you love and understand by monsterq

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 7221 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: In heaven, Mary makes an unwelcome discovery about her sons’ relationship.

.

Mary Did You Know? by AnonDude

Rating: Explicit | Words: 5032 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Mary meets a witch who possesses neither the power nor the ingredients and know-how to open a portal to send Mary and Jack back home...but she can provide Mary a look between worlds. Just one chance to see her boys for a few minutes until they find a way to be reunited again. It's her most ardent wish, save for actually getting back home, and suddenly it's in her lap — an actual, possible reality. 

But you know what they say… You should be careful what you wish for.

.

Pick up the Pieces by Dyed_Red

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 18940 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Filling the gaps in their stories is slow work, but piece by piece, Mary learns about her sons and the world she left behind.

(A canon-compliant retelling of S12 through Mary’s eyes, with some implied relationships but only as speculation and hearsay)

.

a skeleton terribly restless by remy (iamremy)

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 20518 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Mary knows she doesn't fit right in this strange new world she's woken up in, with these grown men masquerading as her sons, but she tries her best. She really does. She closes her eyes to all the things she does not want to see, and she lies to herself until she's convinced.

Until she can't.

.

(One more look) and I forget everything by thewrongsideofmorality

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 1447 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: After rescuing Sam from the Men of Letters, Mary stumbles onto something she wishes she hadn't

.

grateful by whiskeycherrypie

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 3911 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: John says something to Mary. Sam and Dean pass out in bed together.

The timing couldn't be worse.

*Now with chapter 2. Mary asks questions. So does Sam.

Picks up from 14x13.

.

Reckoning With Herself by Amoreanonyname

Rating: Gen | Words: 550 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: Mary Winchester reflects on the real reasons she avoided Sam and Dean for so long.

.

Heat Waves in the Middle of June by Anonymous

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 1161 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: This, Mary realizes, is the life she’s condemned her boys to. Hot summer afternoons on the road in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to their names, with nothing but each other.

.

Illicit Affairs by Anonymous

Rating: Gen | Words: 1488 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: "So moms back..."

Mary is back from the dead and faced with Sam and Dean's relationship that goes beyond being brothers.

.

they were each other's toxic cure called codependency by nowhere_blake

Rating: Gen | Words: 2172 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Mary’s back, Dean is gone and Sam stops sleeping. She thought she understood how deep her boys' relationship goes, but when Michael takes over and Dean disappears, she needs to reevaluate just exactly how scarily codependent the two of them are.

Coda to 14x01 Stranger in a Strange Land.

_

Hope these satisfy, gray!

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

The Summer I Turned 18

The Summer I Turned 18 https://ift.tt/DaZ9Npm by renae_winchester67 Dean Winchester is the school stoner, stuck doing summer school because he could care less about his grades. Until he meets Castiel and school becomes about more than just grades. Words: 2843, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Ash (Supernatural), John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Jessica Moore (Supernatural), God | Chuck Shurley Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Human Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Lesbian Charlie Bradbury, Homophobic John Winchester, Smoker Dean Winchester, Stoner Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester First Meet, Hurt Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Abusive John Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Bad Parent John Winchester, John Winchester Bashing, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester is Soft for Castiel via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/Cb4ZzPc September 15, 2024 at 09:00PM