joowonyi

all we need is love

[wincestendgame]

Twitter is so wild like wdym they are debating whether a gay man is more homophobic than his gay lover or not

[momomarjijo]

hey there delilah whats it like in new york city? im thousand miles away but girl tonight you look so pretty

[nymphalidaze]

The canonical feminisation of Dean is so fascinating. I don't know a single other piece of media that's ever done anything like it. Sometimes it's subtle and subtextual, but often it's the polar opposite.

There's the parentification of Dean into the role of wife and mother.

Dean being literally forcefemmed sexually by Rhonda when she makes him wear pink panties.

The way people talk about his looks, like Gwen saying he 'has delicate features for a hunter'.

Azazel calling Sam 'son' but calling Dean 'daddy's little girl'.

'Daddy' is more utilised by female characters than male, often to signify youth, innocence, and naivety, but it crops up often for Dean. The above from Azazel. Dean's own subconscious calling him 'Daddy's blunt little instrument'. Most strikingly, Henrickson saying 'Daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place'.

And that last one, the little remarks and plot points that time and again suggest Dean is a victim of CSA. The 'nobody's a virgin' line. The way he is paralleled with Bela. It's rare that male characters ever get this treatment.

It's just such fascinating characterisation. On the surface, Dean is all tough-guy machismo: he drives a cool car, wears a leather jacket and work wear, listens to metal, drinks whiskey, and is chillingly comfortable with violence. But this is so often framed as compensation for the fact that underneath it all, he's just a traumatised, damaged kid who grew up too fast and has suffered through countless horrors.

And he's Daddy's little girl.

[gremlininho]

then & now ♡

[foxystuffq]

THAT'S ACTUALLY SAM AND DEAN

[dead-dove-do-not-fucking-eat]

I love Sam and Dean as a ship for how fucking messy it is

Sam and Dean are in love. They are freakishly codependent. They are each other's literal family. They are soulmates. They are each other's favorite person. They are each other's weaknesses. They are the most important people in each other's lives and never fully gave up on or let go of each other even at their absolute worst. They have physical fights. They are basically attached at the hip. They are unhealthily obsessed with each other. Their dynamic is inherently not safe or sane or remotely normal. They are happiest together and they are happy together for eternity in heaven by the end of the show. They fuck freaky style in the back of the Impala that is somehow, inexplicably also in heaven (the heaven they fully expected to only see each other in because they are actual literal soulmates btw).

[foxystuffq]

And why people choose destiel...?

[foxystuffq]

5 постов!

YAYYY

[prettyliilnett]

𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓻

[ultimatelustforlife]

𐙚⋆.˚

[foxystuffq]

Sexy wincest

Falling back onto the hard motel bed wasn’t exactly pleasant, but what came after more than made up for it. It felt so good that Sam had to tilt his head back, almost praying he wouldn’t accidentally meet his brother’s eyes. His hair fell messily over his face, and his heavy, ragged breathing made the strands flutter up and down. His knees were shaking, but Dean’s strong hands held his thighs firmly in place, making it hard to move.

It was surreal — lying on the bed and looking down to see his own brother sucking him off. Definitely not how he had pictured his college years. But instead of Stanford, he had chosen Dean and the hunt. And right now, he wasn’t complaining one bit.

The only thing annoying him was Dean’s phone, which kept ringing non-stop, breaking the mood. Right on the edge of coming, with a crooked half-smile, Sam told him to either turn the damn thing off or answer and tell whoever it was that he was busy — that no one should ever call him again or come near him. Because Dean belonged to him. To Sam. And he wasn’t sharing.

God, it felt so fucking good to fill his brother’s mouth, sliding deep into his throat while watching him shirtless. Wasn’t this exactly what he had wanted every time they were alone? Wasn’t this what he secretly craved when Dean came out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel? Sam would pretend to be asleep, but his body would betray him — cock twitching and hardening instantly.

He was crazy for Dean.

And Dean was just as crazy for him.

They were addicted to each other. Any distance between them hurt. Dean constantly worried about Sam, and Sam… Sam would feel like the biggest pervert alive, replaying scenes from the last niche porn he’d watched, imagining himself as the guy in the suit and Dean as the sexy secretary.

Eventually, he came hard down Dean’s throat from his brother’s skilled mouth. And even then, it wasn’t enough. He wanted more of Dean — more of his heat, more of his body. He wanted to be inside him completely, to become one.

Dean didn’t mind at all. As soon as Sam asked to fuck him, Dean quickly unbuckled his belt, kissing Sam’s neck.

There was no lube anywhere, so Sam brought his fingers to his mouth, wetting them thoroughly. He pushed Dean down onto the bed — even though Dean wasn’t going anywhere. Slowly, he worked his fingers inside his brother, feeling the tight heat and the way Dean trembled with pleasure. Sam wanted to fuck him senseless, to give him the best sex of his life, something he’d never forget.

He kissed Dean’s back as he sped up, stretching him open. When he felt Dean was ready, Sam pushed his cock inside him and started thrusting, watching with dark satisfaction as Dean moaned, flushed red, bit his lip, threw his head back, and stroked himself.

But what Sam loved most was hearing Dean moan his name.

And fucking him turned out to be way better than he had ever imagined.

[foxystuffq]

Cute Winchesters

We've been together for about five years now. Funny how life works — we first "met" the day my mom brought me home from the hospital. I don’t remember much from my childhood, but I clearly remember his gentle hands cupping my cheeks and the soft kiss he placed on my forehead.

And now, many years later, he still kisses me on the forehead every single morning.

Mom’s gone. Dad too. But we have each other. We’re the most important people in each other’s lives — the ones we protect, the ones we save. Yeah, we’re brothers. But honestly… neither of us really gives a damn. We just don’t care.

This morning, he woke me up with warm arms wrapped around me and whispered something sleepy and rough in my ear, then mumbled that he was hungry.

The fridge was empty. Normally, I’d be the one getting up earlier than my boy — going for a run, hitting the store for stuff the motel doesn’t have, and cooking breakfast for both of us. But after yesterday… I just couldn’t. Not everyone can jump out of bed at five in the morning for a run after taking a bullet to the shoulder.

Thankfully, my baby patched me up last night — dug the bullet out and stitched the wound with dental floss. I’m okay now, but I still skipped our usual morning routine.

“Sorry I didn’t get any groceries, squirrel…” I murmured. “I feel bad…”

“Sammy, don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “I’ll go buy everything myself. You can stay in bed if you want. I shouldn’t have woken you.”

He smiled, hugged me tighter, kissed me on the lips, and headed out to the supermarket.

Of course, I didn’t go back to sleep.

I got up, made the bed, cleaned up yesterday’s mess, went to the front desk to figure out how the damn coffee maker worked, brewed myself a cup, and started packing our things. I couldn’t wait to get back on the road — to slide into Baby, hear Dean’s classic rock playing, and just drive for hours, stealing glances at him and those beautiful eyes of his.

[foxystuffq]

CROWLEY/CASTIEL

SAM/DEAN

I don’t even know how to say this… I’m the Winchester brothers’ little sister. My name… well, I’ll keep that to myself. I’ll just say that I go by Fox. Yeah, I know it sounds kinda silly, but that’s what Crowley calls me. And yeah, we get along surprisingly well, even though my brothers can’t stand him. He’s actually a pretty cool guy.

Anyway… enough about me. Let’s talk about yesterday. I’m still in shock, to be honest. Nothing too terrible happened, but still… Okay, I’m done stalling. Here we go.

It started like any other morning. I came out of my room in the bunker to grab some water and make breakfast for the boys. House rule: whoever wakes up first has to stay in the kitchen. That’s exactly why Dean always “wakes up” last. So there I was, scratching my head, trying to figure out what to cook, when *he* walked up to me.

Castiel. Except… not in his usual vessel.

He — or rather, *she* — was in a female body. I know how weird that sounds. Dean and I laughed our asses off for like an hour when we found out his old vessel needed “repairs.” Like sending an old car to the shop.

So this angel walks up to me and says, “We need to talk.”

Naturally, as a professional overthinker and anxious mess, my brain immediately went to the worst-case scenario. But what he said next was *not* what I was expecting.

Cas led me to the second floor, away from the kitchen, and sat down in the armchair by the wall. I sat across from him. He looked at me with this lost, confused expression. I started worrying, but tried to play it cool — an old habit I picked up from Dean.

“What’s up, Cas? Having girl problems? Just don’t pick the wrong shade of foundation.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes,” he said in a tone that instantly wiped the smile off my face. For real this time.

“Cas, honey, you’re killing me here. I’m freaking out. What happened? I’ll help no matter what, but I really hate when you drag things out like this.”

He sighed.

“Well… Fox…” (That’s what most people call me, except my brothers.) “Since I’m currently in a female vessel… it appears I can… carry a child.”

After that, everything he said turned into background noise.

A million emotions and questions exploded in my head at once. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Cas… When the hell did you… *perform coitus*—” I quoted his own words from before, “—or, in normal English: when the fuck did you manage to get laid?!”

I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t yelling. I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face. Because come on — it *was* funny. But one look at Cas’s face told me I was the only one who thought so.

Then my brain caught up with the situation and the laughter started to die.

“Wait… Who’s the father?” I asked, staring at him.

“That,” said a familiar rough voice behind me, “is the next question.”

I jumped (I swear I’ll never get used to him doing that) and turned around.

“Crowley? You’re involved in this too? Can someone please explain what the hell is going on and why it feels like everyone knows except me?”

“Not everyone, little fox,” Crowley smirked. (God, I love that nickname.) “Just Castiel, myself… and now you.”

“Cas, who’s the dad? Spit it out already.”

“Fox… it’s…” Castiel started, stuttering again.

I looked up at the ceiling, praying for strength. *Can someone say something coherent today?*

“It’s me,” the demon said simply.

Dead silence.

*Him.* Of course. I knew they were messing around, but still…

“You?! So you’re telling me you’re gonna have a half-demon, half-angel baby?!”

“Apparently so,” they both answered at the same time.

I threw my hands up and covered my face.

“You absolute idiots… Well, love is blind, I guess. I’ve suspected you two were sleeping together for a while, but the fact that you can actually *reproduce* is still blowing my mind. Congrats, dumbass dads. If you screw up even one thing while raising this kid, I will skin you both alive.”

“If you help us,” Crowley grinned slyly, “we’ll make you the godmother.”

The King of Hell knew exactly how to hook me. Toys and diapers. Damn him.

“Wow, the King of Hell is bribing me,” I said dryly, but couldn’t help smiling. “Okay, next problem: how the hell are we going to tell Sam and Dean?”

“We have no idea,” Cas admitted. “We were hoping you’d help with that.”

I walked over, hugged him around the shoulders and pulled him close.

“Of course I’ll help. Like I have a choice.”

Two hours later, after breakfast was ready, I went to wake up my brothers. When I walked into Sam’s room, Dean was already there — shirtless, sitting on the edge of Sam’s bed, looking like he hadn’t slept much. I didn’t ask questions. We all knew what was going on with them anyway.

I smiled sweetly.

“Rise and shine, lovebirds. Breakfast is ready.”

They got dressed and came out, immediately noticing how serious and lost in thought I looked.

“Guess a peaceful breakfast isn’t in the cards today…” Dean said. “What’s wrong, Fox?”

“There’s… a situation. A really weird one. It involves Crowley and Cas.”

I nodded toward the kitchen, signaling them to come out. I wasn’t about to carry this bomb by myself.

“Well…” Cas began.

“Both of you, stop stalling and spit it out already!” Dean snapped.

(Yeah… I definitely learned that from him.)

“Dean… Sam…” Castiel said slowly, gesturing between himself and Crowley. “We’re… expecting a child.”

“A child?” Dean repeated, completely lost. “What child? Where are you getting a kid from?”

While the two future dads tried to explain, Sam — who caught on way faster — turned to me with wide eyes, silently asking if he understood correctly.

In the end, both brothers sat there with their mouths open, staring back and forth between Cas and Crowley.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me… How long have you two been… you know?”

“Two months,” Crowley replied.

“I told you this house is full of idiots,” I muttered. “I’m the only sane one here.”

“Hey!” Dean protested. “Why are we suddenly idiots too?”

I raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Because I can see the hickeys on your neck, genius. You should hide them better. And maybe leave fewer of them. Especially on the neck.” I winked at a very embarrassed, blushing Sam and went to finish my coffee.

That’s all for now, dear diary.

I think I just heard something fall in the other room. Or someone. I’d better go check.