wayward son

[picksmusic]

DRIVER PICKS THE MUSIC, SHOTGUN SHUTS HIS CAKEHOLE! ... #PICKSMUSIC, an independent dean winchester from the cw's supernatural.

prose-heavy, multi-verse, multi-ship, panfandom, & oc-friendly. written by bucku, 30+. engages with writers 21+ only. graphics by calisverse.

BLOGROLL: @aliasinvestigate | @awbro | @queensupe | @reignthem

CARRD ( under co ) | MEMES | road tripping with: @prodigil

[picksmusic]

@d1eonthishill / starter call.

" no way. " dean shags his head, almost into a lilt. he has both hands out in front of him, palms down & splayed to say the play's over, he has called the umpire's shot on her behalf. there will be no argument. the little quirk hasped at the corner of his lips ( exasperated, amused, a little impressed ) says otherwise. " your mom's gonna kill me. "

[45percenterthen]

12x19 The Future Production Draft // 15x18 Despair

[picksmusic]

@prodigil from here.

" dude. it is rank in here. " a SNIFF rumples the bridge of his nose & bends his lips into a deep frown. brine & ammonia mingle together like the clearance end of the seafood aisle at the supermarket. in spite of its photographs tamped against the wall, little signals of a temporary home ( a bit too much like every mildewy motel room with its mystery-stain mattresses for dean to address head-on ), it's the kind of habitat that occupies a liminal space. dripping rust smears on bare, stoic concrete grey.

dean meanders past the fish carcass, shoving his flanneled sleeve over his mouth to stifle the stink.

a rack of cassettes in his own clumsy handwriting sits beneath a picture of himself with ... a pretty hot gal. his fingertips tip through the plastic sheaths before he thrusts up a hand. " fake me has crap taste, " he declares, a tape between thumb & forefinger. celine dion's name scrawls across the front. " sappy chick tunes, " he grumbles, tossing it aside to join the pile.

" ---------- what've you got? "

[picksmusic]

/poses in dean win.chester

[picksmusic]

blinks nicely at you. is it okay to send multiple memes?

hi! yes, please do. i prefer having a couple to choose from. i usually just do one at a time but i generally save them for later in case the creative vibe strikes.

send as many as you like!

( as a side note, i also have a personal rule that anyone i'm mutuals with may tag me in an unsolicited starter at any time. hardly anyone ever takes me up on this, but i love getting surprise starters! )

[picksmusic]

@cur4tor / starter call.

IDLY, A DRAWER WHEEDLES OPEN. dean peers inside, scouring into the little triangle of dust clinging to the interior corners. he pushes it closed. the little brass handle jangles shut with a creaky-hinged shudder. dean reaches onto the next shelf, turning a porcelain figurine upside down to look at the price on the bottom.

he & sam have habituated these types of place. mothballs & must tickle the nose, a familiar, eccentric warmth homing the aisles of of a shop that hosts previously owned treasures.

it's not really his kind of thing.

unless it leads to the successful unpuzzling of a case.

which ... " nice place you've got here, " dean says through a too-wide smile that rakes across his stubble-rough features & staples a dimple into one cheek. still clutching the figure in his grasp, he waves it & points to it with the opposite index finger. " i like ... uh ... whatever this is. "

[greelin]

do you want to see a bisexual man struggle? Well look no further

[picksmusic]

@m0tel / starter call.

" time to pack it up? " is almost a rhetorical question, a mantra, by now. nondescript green, well-weathered, the drab, crosshatched canvas waits with its zipper half-yawned on his bunk. dean's palm snatches up a pair of jeans by the loop & he begins to roll it down to stuff in to fill the edges the rest of the way.

too long in the same place, a little spider-legs scrabble starts under his skin.

( he doesn't bother considering whether it's the too long in one place that makes the unease start scraping against his animal brain or if it's simply a learned behavior, that the next adrenaline thrill is calling because they're looking to go out & meet it )

dean already has the strap half-buckled over his shoulder, jacket pinched to his side by his elbow, by the time he catches his father the rest of the way in the door. " gimme a few minutes to get 'er gassed & ready, then we can hit the road. "

[picksmusic]

@soothfog / starter call.

" alright then. " wary, brows seaming together the space between his brows until two bundled furrows appear, dean's chin wags a cautious assent.

( this isn't the nightmarish, clammy sweat of sam's uncertain prognostication nor missouri's frank piecing together of the thoughts milling the space between his temples. seems juju comes painted in different shades & just like any new, uncanny presence forcing a place in the hunter's lore, dean treats it with his brand of uncouth discernment. )

his adam's apple jerks over a swallow, a nervous em-dash. " what did you see? "

[anevermadebed]

i can never go home

he was 26, dude. 

[picksmusic]

@piesmake / starter call.

" you know, this whole ... " he waves with the prongs of his fork. " dying ... resurrecting ... thing. ain't exactly been a walk in the park. " it's easier to steep himself in the butter-warm aroma of dough crisping around sugar browning, fruit sweetening in the air than it is to consider how many minutes, the volume of seconds ticking past since he'd opened his eyes, gasping air into the collapsed sacks of his lungs. the shuddering thump of his own heart re-starting an uncertain beat is an echo behind his sternum that he stifles with an uncomfortable knock of his knuckles. being a dead man walking, grave dirt freshly shorn from under the crusts of his nails, is disorienting. blinking into an undeserving light feels like staring directly into the blazing whorls on the surface of the sun.

utensil scraping, needle screeched across ceramic, dean scoops up what's left of the crust sopped with a thick smear of apple & pushes it between his lips. " so if we're gonna talk shop, i think some more of this pie is in order. "

[picksmusic]

@bdazzled from here.

" whoa, hey! " stuttering mid-stride, dean squares off with one boot trodding a half-step backward. both hands in a palm-out surrender shoot up to frame his face. a near anticipatory wince feathers the creases at the corners of his eye with the nozzle pointed straight & sparkling in all its purple glory directly at his face. " ---- easy. "

with only the sallow streetlight splitting open the way the night cloaks him & his fan-collared silhouette ( & the general, neck-prickling sense of predatory unease traipsing along in snarling, close pursuit behind them ), dean understands both the trepidation & the urgency of self-defense.

" just put that down for a second. " he starts toward her before aborting, still turned askance of the potential spray focused on him. a furtive, sideways glance flicks over his shoulder to seek among the shadows for any sign of whatever the hell this thing is that has what is clearly a capable woman in its sights. " i know how this looks, but ... you gotta trust me. this thing that's following you is seriously bad mojo. "

in an ill-advised moment emboldened by a fierce desire NOT to end up fodder for freaky shit, dean reaches for the little canister. " i'm just trying to help. "

[prodigil]

' both of us don't need to get hurt. ' comes sam's plea, ardent and viscous on his tongue, accompanying a disapproving twinge of the inner brow. the hunted beast's song is distant, but shriller than all music, needle notes squealing up into the porous night sky. a display of pain, or anger, or hunger, perhaps. ' look--you take care of me, always. let me talk care of you for once. it nicked my leg when it grabbed me, but i can still walk. i bait it, you shoot it. ' the rifle hangs slack in his arms, proper form despite loose shoulders. ' do it my way, this one time. please? '

[picksmusic]

" fine. " reticent & gravel-petulant, the bluster that riles up to fight stifles if only because there's no better lead ; it's late in the game. " but if this crap plan of yours goes sideways, i'm pullin' the plug before you're monster chow. you hear me? " dean wrenches the rifle out of sam's arms, rings the strap from shoulder to waist. the blunt-nosed tip of his own shotgun nudges at the air.

( he'll throw himself in front of its sinew-stringy maws if he has to, if the meaty part of sam's leg is too weak to get him up & out in time. he'll put up a hell of a brawl, go down swinging. )

" ---------- let's send this ugly sonuvabitch packing. "

[picksmusic]

starter call?

[picksmusic]

ON THE SELF, SEXUALITY, & RELATIONSHIPS:

NOTE: this is in coordination with @prodigil's sam.

dean feels a deep responsibility to the "idea" of what john winchest.er imparted to him of masculinity as represented by the hunting community. this is in large part due to the trauma inflicted by his mother's death & the tether he feels now connects him to his father ( & brother ) since he is all that is left to john & they are all that is left to him.

john raised dean to be a hunter, through & through. dean takes up this mantle as the "family business" without questioning or challenging as to whether this is the right thing for him. in his mind, he fits the order, not the other way around.

dean does not have a fully formed sense of self.

in season 1, we see this reflected as performative straightness & masculinity. he is showy, puts on a smile, uses bad pick-up lines, makes boob jokes, rough houses, etc. with his brother, & leers at women in public ( though rarely acts upon it ). in later seasons, he even lowers the timbre of his voice so that he sounds more masculine. this belies vulnerability that sits beneath the surface veneer of his behavior, but also serves to show that dean has wholly constructed his identity around what his father has told him he should be.

he routinely demonstrates anger in the early seasons that sam does not want to follow the same path or show their father the same blind faith that dean carries.

it is also shared that when sam decided to go to stanford & pursue freedom through the agency of choosing a path differently to dean, that dean was angry & even felt betrayed.

extending this further to gender identity & sexuality: dean absolutely accepts & loves his brother ( though he routinely demonstrates he does not know how to show that in an acceptable way - e.g. goading sam into physical fights, bringing to blows, mocking ) when @prodigil comes out as trans, but this challenges dean's own identity & role within the family.

he hasn't ever considered he could be anything other than what he is supposed to be: straight, cismale, & act like it. "real men" drink cheap beer, listen to classic rock, drive muscle cars, wear leather jackets. dean represses his attraction to other men, burying it beneath a layer of homophobia he has seen performed in the hunting community. he convinces himself this is liveable because he is attracted to women.

he also struggles with the fact that sam is able to reconcile his identity & come into his own. much like being able to go to stanford & claim a life outside of being a hunter, sam is able to fully come into his own, which dean resents. he feels as though with one queer person in the family, he is unable to take up more space with his own queerness. his self-loathing comes out in the season 1 episode "skin," where the shapeshifter calls himself a "freak" while wearing dean's personality, thoughts, & skin. he often does not consider his attractions, ignoring them, & if confronted, would say he does not feel them at all.

this repression also leads to resentment. he takes it out on sam often, sometimes deliberately, sometimes in microaggressions. this is not to say he does not love sam -- he does, & is actually more dependent on sam than sam is on him -- but he has not been raised in, nor has he developed appropriate coping mechanisms to fully abandon the more physical, toxic masculinity with which he has been surrounded into his early adulthood.

[thehaikyuuhaikus]

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