Author: TwinOne! | Artist: Scarlett Dixon
Posting on Tuesday March 15
Living in a farm where his only company were horses, chickens and a few employees made Dean think constantly of their well being. But with a predator around his farm that agitated the horses and ate his chickens, thinking of ways to protect them was a priority. He’d trained the birds to return to their chicken house every evening, added chicken wire to the fence around his coop and had even raised the coop off the ground by a foot. Nothing worked! Then Sam suggested he get a dog.
Keep reading for a sneak preview!
There is a small hallway behind the crates where all the doors are, like a service hallway where the person in charge of food and water has access to all the dogs.
“This way.” Bella says and walks to the end of the hallway where Dean can see the dog. He walks as close as he can and squats to open the crate, it's a simple enough latch, the ones you pinch to open.
“Hey man.” Dean says softly and instantly starts caressing the dog’s fur, in between his ears and lower to his neck and back. The dog slowly lifts his head and opens his eyes. They are so blue and so deeply sad. Dean feels his heart break just looking at them. This dog calls to him, it's like they have a connection.
“You want to come to my farm and live with me?” Dean asks and keeps caressing him. The dog whines a little and starts going back to sleep. “I need some help with my chickens, you know? Someone’s been attacking them and they need someone to look after them when I’m not around.” Dean can see his ears twitch a little and something in his eyes changes. Suddenly there’s a spark there. The dog lifts his head again and huffs at Dean.
Dean smiles. “Yeah, you think you can help me with that?”
“I’ve never seen him respond to anyone like that before.” Bella whispers behind Dean, he can hear a tone of surprise in her voice..
“Yeah, Dean has that effect on people. I guess it works on animals as well. He’s good at giving second chances.” Sam knows that Dean has a weakness for injured animals. Taking care of them has always been Dean’s calling.
Those big blue eyes keep looking straight at Dean. They are sad but hopeful. Dean stares right back. The dog licks Dean’s hand and whines a little, like he is asking a question. Dean can almost hear him in his head. ‘Can I really be of help to you? Can I come live with you?’
“Yeah.” Dean says. “Yeah, man. You can help me. You can come with me.”
The dog looks so relieved and grateful at that moment. He stands on shaky legs but his steps are sure as he walks closer to Dean. He sits on his hind legs, lifts his head and licks the underside of Dean’s jaw before cuddling close to him, as if saying ‘Please take me with you’.
And Dean did.
I have started seeing your face in the hills. This is how I know it’s time. I am sore to leave you and yet—there is a time for all things. Perhaps the trees feel sorrow at the shedding of their leaves each autumn. Perhaps you feel some sorrow at my going, too. I cannot pretend to know your heart, though I’ll admit I’ve longed to, for some seasons.
I will see you again, I know, in the hills and grasses of wherever my roaming shall take me. Whether you see me again, is up to you. I do not know.
You have held my heart captive two winters. I expect I shall leave it with you, even when my liberated body sets sail for America.
Just so, I am yours:
Your faithful servant, shepherd, lonely and wandering guide,
Castiel.
-
I don’t think I’ve promoted it much here yet, but I’ve got a new deancas WIP set in the 1800s featuring an Irish shepherd Cas, a lot of folklore and flora, and a lot of birds.
Summary:
Just east of the town Porthgwarra, Cornwall, Robert Singer’s farm lies, a mess of ravaged land gaping out onto a fretting sea. Robert's orphaned godson, Dean Winchester, is named sole beneficiary of the farm - and though he hasn't seen his godfather in fifteen years, he travels across the Atlantic with his brother and half brother to care for Singer in his old age and tend to the farm. All of them hope to leave behind the squalor and famine of their old life.
What Dean meets is the bird-infested home of a widowed eccentric, and a new shepherd whom he can neither stand nor see any use for - stoic, rude and conceited, Dean plans to fire the mysterious and wandering Mr Novak the moment he comes into legal possession of the farm. But upon the shepherd's offer to teach him the trade, in anticipation of Dean replacing the man himself, Dean finds in the wild and roaming man a steadiness and certainty his own life has never yet contained. And one day Dean will have to ask, not tell, the shepherd to stay.
Ivanna, I love you. Thank you for always hyping up our stuff and BLESSING us with your amazing artistic talents.
request: (jfc yall)
"I would do literally anything for more farm dean (can we eventually get a cute wedding? Take it slow tho dw)”
“I would kill for farmer's daughter part 3.”
“Okay wow I love Majesty it’s amazing but can you please give us some more farm Dean!! Love y’all!”
“Aight so can we pleaseee get another part for farmer’s daughter cause I never knew I needed farmer Dean in my life prior to that”
“I NEED FARM DEAN TO BE A COMPLETE SERIES WITH MANY HOT SUMMERS AND A WEDDING EVENTUALLY”
“Please give us farm/country Dean part 3 IT MAKES ME SO SOFT🥺🥰 They need to get married at some point sksksk”
“I’m the one who requested farm boy Dean and whew boy you guys did not disappoint! IT WAS SO GOOD."
warnings: ?language?
word count: ~4000
You furrowed your brows as you looked over the field of workers, tilling the dark earth beneath the hot summer sun. The living room radio was cranked up loud enough that the lulling tones of the singer could be heard from your front porch, mixing in with the calming noise of the wind-chime and cicadas in the trees. The scent of summer wafted through your hair with the same wind swirling through the chime, playing it as if it were a musician. The warmth of the sun settled against your exposed skin as you marched out to the field, throwing your hat over your wild hair. The cooler you were lugging behind you was nearly reminiscent of when your mother forced you to apologize to the men for your manners when now, it seemed that you could be wearing a winter coat and she’d nearly faint in embarrassment. Still, you were greeted with bright smiles and the welcoming of the refreshments.
You tucked your hands into your back pockets, searching the small crowd of college boys almost too dirty to be recognized. The offset chorus of sentiments and thankfulness blended into the wind in your ears. “He’s not here today,” one of the boys you knew from high school piped up beside you, leaning against his trow and following your eyes towards the horizon over the field. You moved your head to look in his direction, perking an eyebrow as you did so. He ran one of his grimy hands through his sandy hair, taking a deep breath of the summer air you were also admiring a few minutes prior.
You chuckled lightly. “Well, don’t write a novel, sparky,” you joked, making him snicker, a small gleam in his eyes as he looked at you fully this time.
“Apologies, ma’am. Dean took up another shift at the station. He needs the money before he heads back soon,” he disclosed, his hand moving to rub at the nape of his neck. You felt your heart drop three stories into hell at his words.
You wet your lips, searching his eyes. “Soon?”
He nodded. “Didn’t he tell you? His mom sent him a letter or something.” You shook your head, thanking him for the information and handing him one of the drinks from the cooler, your mind racing at what soon meant. How soon? Next week? In a few days? Tomorrow? What happened to summer? You parted ways with the men, tying your hair back and deciding that waiting for him to get off work would eat you alive before you got the opportunity to figure out what was happening.
It seemed as if your bike wasn’t quick enough to keep up with your legs and pacing heart. The vast cornfields and wildflowers you regularly would have stopped to enjoy, zipped passed your ankles alongside the gravel road into town. Your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving so soon after you had so much planned for these few precious months you had the opportunity to spend with him.
The reality of the situation was that you both were getting older. Soon, at least by your mother’s standards, you’d need to be settled and on the road to having children before your life completely passed by your ears. There were only so many summer vacations you could enjoy before you were tied into a job or a family. It was only a matter of time before you’d be looking back on these summers and wishing you could curl back up beneath the large willow trees, pressed against Dean’s side after a long day. When you were old and harsh like your mother, would you regret it if Dean wasn’t the man you were spending the rest of your life with? Did he even feel the same about you, or were you still a summer fling to him?
Your throat tightened at that thought. Were you becoming too attached when he had his own separate life back home, with no intention of blending you into it? The idea of him with another woman that wasn’t you boiled your blood. Yet, you still skittered on the edge of whether or not your father would even allow the two of you to be together.
Who were you kidding? You were on your mother’s timeline, it didn’t matter if you wanted to marry him tomorrow. Maybe you could convince yourself that there was still time. Your fears seemed to wash away into the cracks of the sidewalk as you pulled up to the gas station, tucking your bike into the rack beside the front door and greeting the few cars of townspeople you recognized. You were now on a mission, your mind almost blank with everything else. The handful of Cadillacs full of couples in swimsuits that you had familiarized yourself with in school attempted light conversation with you as you vaguely surveyed the station before finally spotting Dean. His dark jumpsuit was, of course, already filthy as he wiped his hands on a towel, in mid-conversation with another mechanic. Your heart felt heavy looking at him again, as if you were seeing him for the first time again. His bright eyes turned to you as if he had sensed your presence, his smile brightening at your appearance as he headed for you.
You fought your blush as you excused yourself from the group and walked to meet him half-way. His usual dapper mood was still prevalent as he stood before you, seemingly pleased that you were there to see him. “Hey, I’d kiss you but-” He began but your impatience and slightly distraught expression sent his brows furrowing. He seemed hesitant to ask you what was wrong, like he knew what you’d chased him down for. He pulled his bottom lip between his gleaming teeth, tucking the towel in his back pocket.
“I heard you’re leaving soon,” you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers. You wanted to reach out and touch him despite his begrimed appearance. It was almost your new normal now: not seeing him covered in dirt or grease was almost foreign to you. You fought against begging him to stay with you rather than go back again, or at least take you with him as his curious eyes blueprinted your appearance into his memory. “What kind of soon are we talking?”
Dean sighed regretfully, looking over his shoulder and gesturing at one of his co-workers before taking one of your hands lightly and stepping into the small station. The one-room business was empty and nearly pristine, evident that only tourists passed in whereas the locals knew not to step foot near it. “I was going to tell you, I just didn’t know how to. This is probably going to be my last summer here.” You inhaled sharply, attempting to keep your noises of upset to yourself as his eyes saddened, the blue hue deepening. Is this how he felt when you left for school? At least there was a promise you’d be back. “My mum’s getting old and I’ll have to take over soon.” Your mind raced at his words. It seemed like he was finally back in your life and now he was leaving. This time for good.
Despite your fast track mind trying to figure out how to sneak into his trunk and force him to take you with him, you couldn’t think of what to say to him. “When?” Was all you could manage.
“Next week.” His words were soft and apologetic. You felt guilty for making him feel like this. You understood; if you were in his shoes you would be doing the same. You looked away from him, blinking towards the ceiling in an attempt to hide your blurring vision, misting by your budding tears. You swallowed harshly, stepping away from him and shaking off your sadness. “Hey,” Dean called for you gently, his hand reaching to touch your wrist to turn you towards him. The way you led into his closeness seemed to make him forget about not wanting to dirty your appearance. He settled his hands alongside your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact with him. You relaxed into his touch almost instantly, your eyes fluttering shut against the stinging tears threatening to fall. His calloused thumb brushed against your cheek. “Just because it’s my last summer doesn’t mean I won’t come back for you if you’ll let me,” his words were like a warm embrace of their own. You sighed and locked eyes with him, hoping to keep the memory of their brightness in the back of your mind. He pulled you closer to him, his lips hovering over yours with a softness like you were a rare flower he was struggling not to crush in his fist. You let your eyes drift shut against the blissful feeling of his breath fanning against your cheek before he pressed his lips against yours, the mix of sadness and worry bleeding away from your mind as the gesture seemed to tell you not to fret over the future anymore.
The bell above the general store rang into the cool air, breaking the silence in the small shop. You untied the scarf around your head as you stepped towards the cashier’s counter, vaguely thinking of back home when you’d usually be greeted by someone you’d grown up with or someone who’d babysat a friend of yours. The man behind the counter stood up straighter, tucking away the magazine he was skimming and attempting to take in your appearance. You felt like a foreigner in the desert as you stood before him. He was rather tall, with clean overalls strapped over his shoulders. “Can I get a fill up?” You asked, gesturing towards your car parked outside. The man raised his eyebrows before nodding and following you outside. “Do you mind if I wait beside you? I’ve been driving all day,” you added as he flipped open your gas lid and began filling your car. You peered around the two of you, taking in the scenery. This part of England wasn’t much different from your hometown, yet it still felt like you had wound up in an alternate reality.
“What are you doing across the pond, miss?” The man asked, his eyes quizzing your every move.
You gave him a small smile, slightly nervous. “I’m visiting my boyfriend actually. He lives down the road, or so I think. I’m kind of lost to be honest...” you mumbled the last part more to yourself as you fished the small scrap of paper out of your pocket with Dean’s address scribbled down. The man gestured slightly, asking if he could take a look and you shrugged, flashing the paper to him. His eyes lit up with recognition and a small chuckle. Before you knew it, the two of you were leaning over the truck of your car with your road map spread out beneath you both, the man explaining the twists and turns on how to get to the house, and you scribbling down a few words to get you out of the woods.
He closed your car door for you after you climbed in. “Remember, left at the fork, two rights, another left-”
“And around the bend,” you finished with a grin to match his. “Thank you for your help.”
“Thank me with an invite to the wedding. They’ve been trying to get that boy married off for years!” He jested before sending you on your way. The run-in with the shopkeeper took your mind off the stroke of nervousness that seemed to rattle around in your chest with each turn in the road. You turned up the radio in hopes that your mind would wander away and stay there until you were in front of the man again. After Dean had left, the distance between the two of you was once again agony in a way you’d never have expected it to be on that first day of summer when you met him. You felt like a crazy person as you slowly checked off your list of directions. What were you doing? What if he didn’t want you here? What if he’s moved on?
You finally made it past the last bend, your hands clammy as your eyes drifted between the road and the scrap of paper once again, looking for the correct numbers. The paper looked about as thin and crumpled as your mental state as you finally spotted a small house surrounded by cherry trees. A school bus sat in front of the driveway and as you grew closer, there he was. Dean stood in front of the door with a young boy clinging to his hand. Dean looked as if he were talking to an old friend, which you weren’t the least bit shocked at. His ability to hold conversations with anyone and everyone was almost annoying to you, but now seeing him like this, it was charming. Then something had been said involving the boy, who shied away, hiding behind one of Dean’s legs. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, attempting to remember who the kid could have been. Surely he wasn’t Dean’s.
Right?
Dean chuckled and knelt down beside the kid and murmured a few words before the child nodded at him and stepped onto the bus. Dean smiled and waved at whoever the bus driver had been as the vehicle took off. You opened your door and stepped out, catching Dean’s attention. He furrowed his brows as if trying to place you in a setting so far away from what you were used to. He’d cut his hair again, his nose slightly red from the colder air, making his eyes nearly crystal. You wet your lips, unsure of your next move. “Is he yours?” You asked. It seemed like his mind had finally allowed him to recognize that it was indeed you standing at the edge of his yard.
He shook his head. “My brother’s. First day of year one, you know.” He gestured in the direction the bus had gone with a small smile. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he stated, taking a few steps towards you. You looked at your feet mildly in embarrassment, realizing how out of left field it was to just show up unannounced halfway across the world. He leaned against your car, stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket. A flannel shirt peeked out from beneath his dark coat, you noticed. The yellow and red leaves around the two of you seemed so out of place compared to the summer flowers and bright blue skies.
You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry for just showing up…”
He scoffed softly, a smile creeping across his lips. “I’m not.” You forced yourself to make eye contact with him, his excited expression warming your heart and reaching your nearly frozen fingertips. He stood up and wrapped himself around you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and breathing deeply. You let the tension from the last few months evade your body as you tucked your hands around his waist, yearning to touch the softness of his flannel. You weren’t sure how it was possible, but Dean still smelled like the summer sun was settling against his skin. He moved to kiss your cheek, and you met him with a chaste kiss against his lips. You relaxed against his touch.
“I met your friend at the gas station,” you hummed, turning to look at him. His mouth twisted into a smirk as a flash of disbelief beckoned behind his eyes. “He was very nice.”
Dean laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure he was.” He knotted your fingers with his and pulled you towards the small house, placing a kiss to the back of your hand as you continued up the pathway. The home spelled like apple pie and warmth that only a full house in fall could protrude. “Wait, I just remembered,” he stopped you after you both were in the house, discarding a layer or two to hang on the coat tree in the corner. You gave him a tilted expression of worry. “Are you okay with meeting my mom?” You were taken aback slightly with a grin but before you could answer, a woman’s voice beckoned from another room around the corner. Your smile widened and you nudged him in that direction.
The woman that had called for Dean was stout, with short hair and a kind face which was furrowed in concentration as she bustled around the stove, nursing a freshly made apple pie. “How’d he do? Did he get on the bus okay?” She asked, her expressions still focused on the task at hand. Dean cleared his throat, making her eyes snap up towards the two of you as Dean stepped out of the way between you and his mother. He put a hand on your shoulder, introducing you to her with a rather proud smile on his face. Her hand was warm and inviting as she greeted you after a moment of hesitation. Her sights flashed between Dean and you, as if asking him to pinch her. She smiled brightly as Dean wrapped an arm around your shoulders, recounting how he found you digging through the trash like a raccoon, making you roll your eyes and shrug his arm off playfully. It seemed like a click of time went by before she was shooing Dean outside to join the rest of the boys gathering leftover cherries. She looped her arm around yours, dragging you towards the back porch and offering you a seat.
You smiled to yourself, a rush of memories flooding from the back of your mind as Dean caught your eye. He played bashful, smirking at you from his position on a ladder beside a man that looked almost exactly like him. His cheeks were already a deeper red from the cooler temperature. It seemed like just yesterday you were perched on your own rocking chair, hungry to catch a glimpse of the new farmhand with dark curly hair and bright eyes. His smile was a carbon copy from the first time you met him, yet this time it seemed he looked at you with a sense of content as he watched his mother take to you so easily. “I’m not surprised you showed up here finally.” The woman broke the echo of calming silence that had settled between the two of you. You turned to her in your chair, pulling your eyes away from Dean. “He never shuts up about you. His brother thought you were fake to be honest,” she joked, making you chuckle lightly. “I’m glad you’re not,” she winked. You gave her a small smile before looking out towards the orchard again.
“I’m sorry to impose, really,” you apologized, a pang of worry thundering in your chest.
She scoffed. “Please! We were bound to meet sometime anyway,” she gestured towards Dean lightly. “Figured he’d ask you at some point.” Her comment was set at an ease you didn’t think your mother could ever have been at. Her welcoming calmness was comforting to you.
Still, you wet your lips cautiously. “Speaking of that, I actually wanted to talk to you,” you chewed. She put her glasses on top of her head, her eyes searching yours much like Dean’s had so many times before. “I was wondering if I could get your blessing. I want to marry Dean.” You held your breath as she blinked at you. Her eyebrow quirked up and she settled back in her chair with a sly smirk painted across her thin lips.
“I had to ask his father to marry me, you know? Those Chapman boys,” she sighed. “Where would they be without us.” You scoffed, shocked at her statement. She turned to grin at you before answering her own question. “Probably dying alone, right?” You chuckled lightly. She patted your hand, which rested on the edge of your rocker. “From what I’ve heard, you’re perfect for Dean. I don’t think I could have picked better for him.” You sighed in relief, your nervousness and unsettled stress had finally subsided with her words.
You waited until the sun had set, spending the day getting to know Dean’s family and attempting to understand the cherry farming business when you barely understood your own father’s crops. Dean’s nephew had nearly jumped into the house after he had finally been released from school for the day; the family members around welcomed him like he had been off to war. Members of the small community in town had shown up at the door bearing casseroles and pies, a tradition for fall nights like this one which you figured you could get used to. And before you knew it, you and Dean were perched side-by-side on the back steps, looking out over the orchard to gaze at the stars overhead. You snuggled up against Dean’s side as he looped an arm around yours, his eyes twinkling with the light from the moon. One of his thumbs absent-mindedly slipped into your sleeve to rub against your wrist. You were beat from the events of the day, or maybe just your ridiculous nerves skyrocketing up and down, but finally you could say you were at peace. You were right where you’d want to be, for as long as you could be.
You cleared your throat mildly. “Dean, will you marry me?” You asked, seemingly into the dark void of the night, rather than to the man braided into you. He shifted slightly to look at you, making you sit up a bit straighter.
A cocky grin spread across his face. “I thought you’d never ask,” he jested, making you shove his shoulder and send him into a small giggle fit. “I’m joking,” he breathed, pecking your lips gently. “I’ll marry you if you marry me,” he added.
You shook your head at his petulant jinxing. “All right, then it’s settled,” you responded.
“Is there some kind of dowry or do I take you for free?” He taunted with another giggle.
“I take it back,” you groaned sarcastically. He laughed harder, pulling you closer to him to seal the moment in a kiss.
Your next online investigation needs to be finding Dean's artisan goat soap shop on Etsy.
jlkfas;djfa ommmmggggg I just checked etsy for his url handle that he uses to try to be lowkey and didn’t see it but I know he’s selling his own cosmetics and jarred fruits
Re: Dean's arms. Farmers do things like pull weeds and plant seeds and spray for bugs, so a lean farmer isn't unusual. Ranchers do things like throw around bales of hay and wrestle livestock. They might get beefy, but a lot of them can be lean too. Some guys just don't get swole.
he’ll never be the beefy broad shouldered farmer I want him to be. Always too smol. That’s fine at least this way he can wear children’s clothes which are probably cheaper. Tend to your garden Dean, plant your trees, watch them grow.
